Justice League Divided
by Red Priest
Summary: The story weaves together the points of view of multiple heroes and villains that come together in an immense arc. The Justice League are forced apart to deal with individual concerns - Batman with Joker, Superman with his own demons, to name a few; but when a shadowy threat emerges and declares war on Earth and they have to unite again, what cost is too high for victory?
1. Prologue

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **This is my first story on here. I'm co-writing it with my friend, who does not have an account. He has written this chapter, and I've taken care of the next one. _Even _if you aren't hooked by this chapter, I recommend you at _least _read the next, which was a much funner chapter to write. There's a lot more written, but we're doing some severe editing before they're posted, but we did make sure the first two chapters could go straight up.

There will be a lot of characters - right now around twelve, but that could change if we feel a point of view is neglected. There are no rules, any characters can die. Depending on response, we may pen a sequel, but... baby steps. It's planned out to the end, so it's full-steam ahead with the writing. Have fun kids! PS: Do not attempt any of this at home. If you want to become an enhanced super-soldier, it is my recommendation that you do it at a friend's house. I wash my hands of any injuries you may sustain in the process. ;)

* * *

**DEATHSTROKE**

The morning sun cast long shadows over the streets of Metropolis. Deathstroke watched as people forsook their cars and the monorail in favour of walking, and tapped his armoured feet off the black floor of the limousine. His eyes swept the outside as they passed it; nobody could see in, but he could see them. He caught himself picking at some flaking yellow paint on his armour; this was an old suit. "You seem on edge, Slade."

Deathstroke turned to face his employer. "Just admiring the sunrise."

"You don't see many?"

Lex Luthor wore a white suit, the top button of his shirt left undone. Lex's eyes were striking, it was the first thing he had noticed upon meeting him for the first time, all those years ago. They hadn't changed; eyes full of green money, filled with some hidden obsession. _What billionaire doesn't have some secret fetish?_ thought Deathstroke. It had been said that you could see your reflection on Luthor's bald head, unfortunately Slade had found that to be false.

"Too much work for pleasures like that," Slade answered, and his head followed his eyes back to the outside that streamed past so quickly. _Light traffic on a fine summer morning_. Though he slept little, last night he had found that he slept not at all; there was something in the light air this morning that filled him with a sense of dread and doom. He had been trained to peak physical and mental capacity, and he was deeply aware of his surroundings. His guns were essential, his sword was necessary, but it was his instincts that got him through the day. It was exhausting to be on such high alert at all times, but sleep did not come to his easily. _Lucky for me I don't need to do it so often_.

"I know how you feel," Lex muttered. "I don't have much time to do anything other than business, these days."

_Except perhaps waging a quiet war against Superman._

"Almost there Mr Luthor," announced a voice on the speakers.

"Very good," Lex replied.

Deathstroke removed a handgun from his belt and drew the ammo clip, checking it to be full for the third time today. Luthor had made his instructions quite clear. "Kill my associate on sight," he had told Deathstroke. "You must give him no time to hesitate, he must die. You _cannot _miss."

"I'll put a bullet between the eyes of the president if you paid me enough, Mr Luthor. I'd snipe your associate from the other side of Metropolis. Being at your side just makes it all the easier."

Lex offered up a dry smile. "I need you by my side should my associate get any ideas of his own."

"And here I thought you wanted a partner to watch the sunrise with you."

He laughed. "This business agreement will turn sour, Slade. And when it does I need the best at my side."

"Who is this associate of yours?" Slade asked.

"He's not from around here." Lex replied cryptically.

"Gotham?" he asked.

"Think further."

"I failed geography."

"It's best I don't say. Anyone could be listening."

_It's not just 'anyone' that wears a ridiculous red cape and a giant flimsy S._

"He gave me his word that he would come alone. There will be no one else there. He didn't ask that I make the same promise," he added with a wry smile.

The white limo had pulled into an alleyway. The large, towering buildings of the industrial district of Metropolis made it seem more suited to Gotham than Metropolis; spray-paint coated the brick walls, posters advertising Booster Gold's new cereal. _Gold is more of a brand name than a superhero_, thought Slade. The red and gold emblazoned logo of Superman was up there too, though sloppy and poorly done. Slade had seen the outfit up close, though only a few times. The less he dealt with the Kryptonian, the better.

Slade was sure the meeting had to regard the superhero in some way. Aside from attending board meetings, what else did the rich boy have to occupy his time? _I know an old grudge when I see one_, he thought. The limo came to a stop outside a large warehouse like building. There was a 'for lease' sign that hung shoddily over the door, next to a vehicle entrance large enough to admit a bulldozer. Slade knew the building to have been a storage container for rock salt during winter.

The limo driver climbed out the car and rushed to Lex's door. With a relaxed sigh Lex stepped out of the limo, polished black shoes clacking off the tarmac. The driver had seemed to run around the car to open Deathstroke's door, but Slade was already out. He had become accustomed to opening his own doors. He allowed his gaze to wander over the rooftops, wary of snipers and assassins who may have been tailing them. Deadshot, Slade knew, had been contracted to kill Luthor. Floyd Lawton and he were old friends, but the assassin wouldn't let that get in the way of a handsome payment from another crooked billionaire.

The driver opened the trunk of the limo and presented Lex with a small black briefcase, which Lex took and set off for the door. They entered the building, and Slade closed the door firmly. Slade scanned the room with his well-trained eye before he let himself relax. Some salt still remained in the cavernous room tucked away in the corners or in hardened patches on the floor. There were windows, though they were too high up to be a vantage point, or to allow people to watch the transaction go down. Slade saw a giant manhole cover that had not been in the plans, and he rushed to inspect it. Rust had welded it shut a long time ago. He knew that it would not be a problem. "Is the room secure?" Lex asked impatiently.

"Yes," he replied. An electronic sweep had been ordered earlier by Slade, so the room was sure it was free of listening devices or any other bugs. "But let's not linger too long. I don't want to tempt fate."

"I can assure you this shall be quick," Lex said confidently.

Slade sighed and stood at his employer's side.

Lex huffed as he drew up his watch for the seventh time, not that Deathstroke was counting.

"Check your watch all you want, Luthor," Slade said. "I don't think he's coming."

"No." Lex said after a short pause. "No, he is not."

They had been waiting for the best part of an hour when they decided to leave. Deathstroke turned and made for the door when he heard the voice. "Leaving so soon?"

The man had not finished his sentence by the time Deathstroke's gun had cleared its holster and he had fired one single shot towards his head. At the other end of the room stood a man in a jacket of black leather, a dark green shirt and almost black jeans. He seemed a small man, and Deathstroke could see the red of his eyes from across the room. Between his fingers was a smoking bullet. "Your actions speak volumes about yourself, Slade Wilson," the man said as he flicked the bullet away. "Or perhaps they speak more about your employer," he added, and his eyes moved onto Lex.

"Which one are you?" he said. _Too many superfreaks these days to keep track of which ones can catch bullets._

"That is not relevant," the stranger said, striding towards Lex. "What matters is what you brought me."

Slade partially drew the sword he kept slung across his back. "Come any closer and we'll just see how fast you are."

"Lower your weapons or you will die," the man assured him.

"I agreed to make the trade in person!" Lex argued sharply.

"I am who you seek," the man assured the seething rich man. "An avatar, at least. My true form would draw unnecessary attention."

"Do you fear _him_ so much that you must send a puppet to do your bidding?" Lex said. "Your last attack on him was a failure; I watched you fail."

"No better than your own floundering attempts, Lex Luthor."

"With your device my attempts should flounder less," he retorted, though Deathstroke was sure there was something of a wounded pride in his comeback.

_At last I gathered that Superman is involved_, he thought, _but other than that I am lost._

"They will be. First, I will need to see the data you have brought me."

"Of course."

Without any sign of fear or hesitation Lex moved forward with Slade following him closely. Handing the case over Lex only smiled. The man did not return it. "I can assure you it's all there," Lex said as he stepped back, never turning away from him.

"I'm sure," the man said as he opened the case anyway.

"What about what I want?" Lex demanded.

"Be silent."

The man lifted what looked like a data chip from the case. There was a light thrumming noise and the man's skin became a shiny metal that almost seemed like liquid silver to Deathstroke's eyes. The chip submerged beneath his skin. Lex's coming outburst dissipated at the sight of this, his look of fury turning to one of fascination. Slade tensed. _Something isn't right_. Snapping his eyes back open the 'avatar' tossed the chip aside. "The information is incomplete."

"I don't understand."

"The weaknesses of every metahuman on the planet is what I asked for. But what I receive instead is an incomplete list of weakness for the lower rungs of the Justice League ladder. This information is next to public knowledge."

"I'm afraid that is all the information I have," Lex sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

Shaking his head he replied, "It's not what I asked for specifically, but it will do."

"Where is my own piece, the technology you promised me!"

"Empty promises, Mr Luthor."

"I will tell him about this, Construct. I will tell him that you are here, and they will find you."

"I was afraid you would say that," he said with no pity. "But no matter, I brought a failsafe."

There was a shivering of the earth, and then a segment of the floor burst, dust stirring, knocking Lex and Slade off their feet. Whilst Lex landed flat on his back, Slade dropped into a roll and landed with his sword drawn.

Out of the dust staggered a great beast, double his size in length and breadth. Its skin was hard grey leather with bone white spikes protruding from its knuckles, elbows, shoulders, knees, toes and around its jaw. Over its massive muscular body was a pair of green shorts which stopped above its knees. A pair of blaring red eyes glowed from deep-set sockets. Around its neck was some kind of silver collar with a pulsating red light.

"What the hell is that?" Slade snapped as he rushed between the monster and his employer.

"A novelty item. Its previous battle with the last son of Krypton did not end in its favour. It took some time but I was able to place a collar of my own design around the beast's neck. It's no more than a dog for me now, a bloodhound for my enemies."

As the avatar spoke the beast only stared at them with an uncontrollable hate, its body rising and falling with every breath.

"The collar is Kryptonian," the avatar continued as he walked around the beast which paid him no mind at all. "And it is your reward. You'll just have to take it from him. You were never going to leave this place alive, Luthor. I'm afraid I must cover my tracks… and there's little more convincing than widespread devastation wherein you were just one more casualty. Nobody will even remember your name."

Lex held his watch up to his face. "Deploy the suit!"

Moments later a green capsule crashed through the ceiling, landing on the floor a few feet away from Lex. Fumbling to his feet with his blackened white suit and polished shoes Lex rushed to it. "Doomsday," the man said. The beast's massive head turned to face the avatar. "Kill them both."

Lex climbed inside the capsule. It quickly morphed into full body armour with thick arms, legs and an opening between the shoulders for Lex to poke his head through. On the chest of the green and purple battle suit was a glowing green L. The avatar watched with a smile as he started to melt, liquid silver retreating into the hole in the floor made by the newest arrival. Doomsday charged Slade with a roar. Barely able to step out of the way in time Slade took a swing at the monster with his sword. Striking its upper back he left no trace of any injury. His sword shook at the impact and flew from his grasp. Doomsday swung a massive fist at Deathstroke and swatted him like a fly into a wall that crumbled and fell onto him.

Deathstroke staggered out from the debris and saw a green blur rush past him. He drew some form of gun and blasted Doomsday through a wall, which collapsed and soon he was outside. The beast stumbled and almost fell before regaining its footing. It lifted a car like a rock and threw it at Lex, who narrowly missed it. "SLADE!" he heard, and Slade ran to him. He could feel his adrenaline kicking in, his healing factor working up. _Heal faster_, he thought. There were limits to what his body could heal – his missing eye was proof enough of that.

Deathstroke trained his rifle on Doomsday. The nightmarish creature was stepping out of the hole in the building, tearing down even more of the wall as it crashed through. "This creature cannot be killed. We must bide our time until _he_ can deal with it."

Deathstroke snarled as he fired at Doomsday. The heavy tungsten armour-piercing bullets struck Doomsday's giant white chest, crumpling on impact into tiny metal discs.

Doomsday roared and began a charge. Sliding between the beast's legs Deathstroke pushed himself into a somersault before landing on the roof of a people carrier. Lex activated some kind of propulsion system sending flames spewing from his suits hands and feet which tossing him into the air. With some quick manoeuvring he landed on the other side of the street.

"Let's call it quits and walk away from the table!" Deathstroke shouted.

"No! It's being force to hunt me, nowhere is safe! We must not let it run rampant through Metropolis!"

"How long until the spandex brigade get here?" Deathstroke asked, leaping off the car as Doomsday body slammed it.

"Just keep it occupied!" Lex yelled as he charged Doomsday.

Bounding into the air Lex clumsily aimed a kick at its jaw. The point of his boot crunched against its jaw bone, staggering the goliath. With a battle cry Lex punched Doomsday again and again, forcing it backwards with a reverberating smash every time his metal fists struck its stone skin. Doomsday caught Lex's blows and roared in his face. Squeezing, it crushed the exosuit's fist and probably Lex's own. Lex was forced to his knees, waling, by a chortling Doomsday. Grasping his shoulders Doomsday continued to apply pressure. Deathstroke could hear Lex's suit alarms from where he was standing, even over Lex's screaming. Deathstroke primed a grenade as he leapt onto an upturned truck. Flipping clear over Doomsday he landing right behind the brute and his bawling employer. Pouncing on the creature's back he scaled it swiftly using its protruding bone spikes before it could realise what was happening. With more than a little gut Deathstroke crammed the grenade deep into Doomsdays agape mouth. Deathstroke pulled his hand free, and not a second too soon as Doomsday's jaws clamped shut. _Making me handless as well as eyeless, _he thought. _How lopsided I would look._

There was confusion on Doomsday's face until the jerk. Doomsday grunted as a faint bang resonated from within his chest. Lumbering around to face Deathstroke, Doomsday pointed and glowered in his rumbling voice as green blood dripped from between his teeth.

Rearing his fist back Doomsday brought it crashing into the ground. Cracks shot out across the entire street and caused every building within five blocks to quake and their windows to shatter. Unbalanced by the sudden seismic activity and the raining fragments of glass Deathstroke was unable to escape Doomsday's flying tackle. Crushed between the pavement and Doomsday, Slade tried to wriggle free. The beast returned to its feet and then lifted Deathstroke off the ground, tossing the mercenary high into the air. Slade wasn't sure how high he was thrown as he was sent spinning and flailing by his sudden journey skyward, but he was certain he saw the roof of a two store building.

Doomsday's hand clamped around Slade's foot when he came within reach. Glass sprayed in all directions as Slade was slammed onto a car, its frame crumpling and alarm blaring. Deathstroke could taste the iron blood in his mouth. Slowly, he drew a pistol and fired at Doomsday with a desperate cry. Grunting when one of the bullets struck his brow Doomsday lifted Slade into the air, growling with fury he started to bend Slade's back. Slade could feel his vertebra cracking with the strain. "Beast!" Lex yelled, staggering back to his feet.

Doomsday turned to face him, ceasing his attack on Deathstroke. "It's me you want!" he planted a hand on the roof of a car to steady himself. "Leave him!"

Dropping Deathstroke like a sack of potatoes he stomped towards Lex.

"Luthor!" Slade shouted as he gingerly pushed himself of the ground. "Run!"

"Tell the Justice League," he said, "tell them that the Construct is back!" Lex said as he tried to limp out of the way of his foe.

"Tell them yourself!" Deathstroke snapped, drawing his pistol and firing at the monster. Tired of his resistance Doomsday ripped a lamppost from the ground and threw it back without looking. Metal connected with metal, Slade's helmet cracking and splintered like an egg shell, the fragments of his mask piercing his skin. With his vision blurring and ears bleeding Slade felt his pistol slip from his grip. Dragging himself away from the black oblivion Slade tried to keep focused.

Doomsday was no man, he was a beast – hell walking, an apocalypse with legs and eyes. How could he match that? Blood was pooling around his head, dripping between the cracks across his helmet. Lifting his face out of the asphalt with his vision warped and hazy he saw Doomsday leaping into the air. On his descent he braced his shoulder like he was charging something. Crashing back to earth like a living meteor he sent Lex flying along with every car in the street. Sliding across the floor Lex shielded his face as Doomsday began clawing and punching at Lex's armour. Sparks and shrapnel flew in all directions, dancing and tinkling across the cracked ground. Punching and kicking at Doomsday, Lex started to scream as Doomsday's bone like claws started cutting his flesh. Pulling Lex out of the ruins of his armour he raised him up like a fisherman's prize catch. The ivory white suit was stained with dirt and blood, torn apart like the skin beneath. Trying to pry Doomsday's fingers away off of his chest, Lex choked blood.

Doomsday clenched his fist. Bones crunched as Lex's ribs shattered, his organs turned to pulp. Gasping, he clutched at Doomsday's arm as blood gushed from his mouth. A hollow feeling came over Slade. _Defeat_, he thought.

Yet it was more than that. Lex Luthor was considered a visionary, his every action in an attempt to advance humanity. Luthor had power and influence to rival the President of America and the drive to do what needed to be done no matter the consequence or opinion of him. Slade had seen the death of many politicians and powerful figures and with each of them he had been able to predict how their deaths would affect the world. But the ramifications of Lex's death were almost impossible to predict. Yet Slade could see how it would affect him. Lex was Deathstroke's most lucrative client, and with him dead his reputation for success was in the mud.

Deathstroke staggered to his feet, his armour tattered and broken, his spirit fractured. The great beast began to a fist and began to charge. Deathstroke raised his sword. _Perhaps I will die with my reputation_.

And then Doomsday was gone in a flash of red and blue, and Slade could see the cool clear sky.


	2. SCARECROW I

**SCARECROW**

It was decided that Jonathan would be kept in with the general population of Arkham Asylum. In beside your typical thugs and brawlers. There was no interaction, of course. Special patients in general population were not permitted to talk. He had been a part of this once, when he worked in Arkham as a consultant psychiatrist – where else would he experiment on the crazies? _Now you're just another crazy_, whispered a voice in his head. _I am not,_ he retorted. _I am Scarecrow._

It was all routine in old Arkham. Jonathan would wake in the morning, roused by some nurse with hair like barbed wire and eyebrows to match. "Come on, Dr Crane," she would say as if together, they were going on some adventure. _No adventure_, Jonathan had thought. _You're taking me for a piss, not down the rabbit hole, you dimwit. _He would be escorted personally to a padded restroom, and then to the office of his resident psychiatrist, Dr. Stanley, which is where he was now. Jonathan hated the man.

"How are you feeling today, Jonathan?" he asked. He had cleared his desk; only a blank notepad and uncapped pen remained. _Planning to write a book about me, are you?_ Jonathan had called him out on it in the first few days, he couldn't remember which – the drugs made him hazy. "No," the good doctor had said. "It's for case notes – in case you have something to say to me." He tapped on his forehead with the pen. "Bad memory," he added with a sly smile. Jonathan wondered how he would react if he ripped the pen from him and stabbed him with it. _Probably with surprise_, he thought. _I would be surprised too if I got out of this straitjacket and stabbed him_.

They weren't designed for comfort – he knew that much. "I'm well, thank you. The jacket is a little uncomfortable," Jonathan said woefully. "Very tight. Too tight."

Stanley nodded. _Always the diplomat._ "Oh, I would take it off if I could, Dr. Crane, but I cannot. Safety policies and all that. I'm sure you understand!"

"Too right you are." _If there is anything on this world I understand it is fear. Look into my eyes, stare into the heart of fear._ There was no fear in this section of the hospital. This part of the facility – new Arkham – was rank with the duller strains of madness. This section was the lower security areas, designed for clusters of thuggish followers to be held. The zealous followers of Penguin and Two-Face, the clown-warriors of Joker and Harley.

Jonathan didn't remember going back to his cell. He remembered some of the noises of the bedlam; the chanting from behind bars as he was escorted down their corridors, through their cell blocks to his own little room. His room was small, padded and warm. It had an uncomfortable bed. _The mattress seems more like a bag of potatoes_, he thought. Jonathan Crane did a lot of thinking in his cell. Mostly he thought about how he got here into this hell hole, and sometimes he wondered about how he would get out. Today was a day of the former.

Lex's death had made things very difficult for the other members of the Secret Society. He was the smokescreen that concealed their illegitimate activities, but when Tess Mercer took control of LexCorp, she saw fit to hand over clandestine files to the police. The police had subsequently arrested all those linked to the underground criminal organisation – incarcerated most and sectioned the others. This was to be Jonathan's second stint in Arkham. _And most likely my last_. He had been inside for seventeen months before, until the clown had staged "a party". He envied the Joker's capacity for destruction and mayhem, and remembered the last time they had spoken.

"Hello, villains and villainesses," he said with his characteristic flourish. The people around the table had squirmed uncomfortably. Joker had never asked to be a member of the Society, and it was deemed unwise to extend the invitation to him. "He's too unpredictable, he's dangerous – he would kill us all if there was some raw amusement in it," Lex had said. The other associates around the table, Catwoman, Penguin, Lex, Killer Frost, Sinestro, Doctor Light and Mirror Master, had nodded in agreement. Joker had not been pleased, and yet he had somehow waltzed into their headquarters, past layers of LexCorp private security. Harley, as always, stood smaller at his side. Still, she looked pleased.

"What do you want, clown?" asked Sinestro. He had never seemed fond nor afraid of Joker, but Scarecrow could tell he was. He could sense fear a mile off. _That power ring_, he thought_, only powers you because of fear. It does not let you hide it from me. _Scarecrow wondered what would happen if he could slide that ring onto his finger and unleash the full power of fear. Still, his gas was enough.

"I don't know," he said, laughing darkly. "It's kind of funny, isn't it? Us running into each other like this? I was just outside, enjoying the festive cheer, when I saw Baldy's guards outside, and I simply _had_ to crash the party, hehehe." Joker began to walk around the room slowly, his grin from ear to ear. "We never _do_ this, you know? Just _hang out_. We're always trying to compete, and – hmm, is _destroy each other_ too melodramatic?" He screamed with laugher and put his chin on Luthor's head, whose jaw seemed to clench. _Fear_, Scarecrow noted. _Fear disguised as anger, but fear nonetheless. _

Scarecrow always got the impression that Joker truly did find _something_ funny. He could never put his finger on it, but perhaps the Joker was privy to some level of conscious humour that other underlings simply couldn't understand. Regardless, Joker struck him as more an entity than another supervillain. When people wanted to frighten each other, they told ghost stories. When supervillains wanted to frighten each other, they told Joker stories.

"Why didn't you invite me to this big ol' party?" he asked the room.

There was an awkward silence in the room whilst Joker howled with laughter. Harley Quinn looked delighted in the background too, all styled in her make-up; full black circles around her eyes and white-skin almost as pure as the Joker's. "Party poopers," she said. "They don't appreciate your sense o' humour, puddin'."

"_Maybe_, Harley. _Maaaaaaybe_. I always wanted to be a member of a super-secret group of super-dooper super-villains. When I was a baby and my dear old mother was taking off my beautiful three-piece purple suit –" he tugged at the collar, "… why, I would say to her: 'dear old mother, when I grow up I want to be a comic book supervillain.' She would _laugh_ and tell me how _funny_ I was. Ohohoho! What a _joker_. Are these _jellybeans?_" His eyes lit up as his hand began to twitch in his pocket, and he pulled out a white paper bag. All of the villains around the table began to tense, and the guards posted at the door gripped their weapons tighter. "I _love_ jellybeans, but not the orange ones." He reached into the bag, and took out an orange jellybean. He threw it at Sinestro's face, who flinched. "They make me sneeze. _HAHAHAHAAahahHAHAAHA!_"

Joker had gone on for some time like that. Jonathan wondered if he knew the chilling effect he had on the other supervillains. He had not injured anybody in the room; Lex had ordered his guards to capture the Joker on-sight, but either he had disappeared into smoke with Harley or they had been too afraid to attempt a capture. There was a mysticism about the clown prince of crime and chaos that common thugs seemed unwilling to make tangible. They feared him, but not as much as they should fear Scarecrow. He would show them fear.

Fear was what crept into the soul in the dark of night. Fear wasn't the shadows, fear was what they hid. Terror lurked in old Arkham, in the cold cells with Freeze, in the warm cells with Ivy. Scarecrow wasn't aware of the location of Joker's cell; it seemed that his fanatical following made it unwise to alert the public to where his cell was. _When I was a doctor here, Joker was kept in the bowels of old Arkham, in a plain cell, in extreme isolation. That doesn't stop him from leaving as he pleases – Arkham Asylum is just a resting ground between his grand performances. _He wondered if Joker was in the asylum now, and shivered. Still, he doubted it. Joker wouldn't be foiled by the collapse of the Society. If anything he'd be motivated by it. Scarecrow could only imagine what Joker would do at hearing of Lex's death. "I have so much to make _up_ for. My _duty_ and _privilege_."

Crane sat on his lumpy bed and leaned his head on the padded wall. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep, the wall a more comfortable pillow than his actual pillow. _If I wanted to kill myself_, he thought, _I'd bang my head off the pillow._ He let sleep take him for some time. The drugs clouded his mind and made him lose his hold on reality, especially at night. It wasn't until he felt the flames on his face that he realised the screams had been real. He opened his eyes slowly and saw fire consuming his cell, the padded walls had melted and left a hole out back into the cell block. Sweat dripped down his brow and black soot clung to his brown jumpsuit. _What's going on?_

He jumped up and away from the flames, and then ran out into the cell block. Red sirens on the walls blared and flashed, dead guards lay everywhere. Prisoners sang and cheered with ecstasy. There were clown guards around armed with batons and swords and guns, so Jonathan knew immediately who was behind the attack. He tried to shrink away into the bowels of the facility, but grabbed a police baton from a corpse before he went. _I know where I must go_, he thought. He walked through the winding corridors of clinical new Arkham that suddenly seemed to resemble the old. The previously clean floors seemed to have never been cleaned, and the walls were blackened with dried blood. He could feel the heat on the floor and knew some of the floors below must be alight with flame. _What hell have you opened up here, Joker, and why? _There would be time to wonder about that later. Joker would no doubt have a television broadcast; he seemed as adept at hijacking news broadcasts as he was causing death and misery.

It took a long time to navigate the halls of Old Arkham, but eventually – with aid of the vent system – he found his way into the storage. He looked through old files, stopping to read only one of them that he had written long before:

_Responsible for the deaths of an estimated fourteen thousand people, Joker avoids the death penalty by claiming insanity. Unfortunately, this defence was written by his former resident psychiatrist and lover Doctor Harleen Quinzel, AKA Harley Quinn, invalidating any input this can have in court. Therefore, each crime Joker commits must stand on its own merit – and he is unable to be put to death, and returns to Arkham over and over again, escaping after in varying times. The Joker has, at the longest, remained in Arkham for nine months, during the period known as Black Friday, when Batman left Gotham. On his return, Joker's sudden return from a catatonic state led to mass death and the assassination of the mayor. While other super criminals use tried-and-true methods like Victor Freeze's gun or Ivy's toxic plants, the Joker has a varying range of weapons at his disposal. These seem secondary, however, to his overall capacity for destruction._

He smiled at the piece of paper and then ripped it up, leaving it on the floor. It was a relic of an old time, a time where he had not yet been enlightened by fear. He had always wanted to use his fear gas on Joker, but he didn't know if he ever had. He wondered if he'd ever have a conversation with him again. _I hope not_.

He found his mask and costume and put it on. He tucked his straw utilities into his pockets and found a large knife. _Enough to scare any delusional inmates._ With his mask on, his voice was transformed into a high, clear and cold voice. It seemed almost robotic, he had designed it himself. He almost spoke, when he heard the chatter of inmates behind him, clearly coming to loot storage. He turned slowly as they entered. They stared at him for a moment – their faces were painted two colours with some makeshift paint, some of Two-Face's gang he reckoned. "Hello, boys," he said, his voice cold and shrill.

"Move out the way, Scarecrow," the largest one said. "W-We got things to do here."

There were four of them who poured into the room, and still Scarecrow felt larger than them. He lifted his scythe out from the locker, and they raised their baseball bats. _Where do you get baseball bats in an asylum?_ _Harvey must have broken out too._

"By the time I am done with you," he hissed, "you will understand what fear is all about." They shared an uneasy look between them, and then they came at him all at once, swinging their bats. He caught the first one in his scythe and slid it down over his throat, then slung it into the chest of another. The hesitation of the last two allowed him to take out a fistful of straw and snap it in his hands. The two men began to twitch and fell on the floor, a yellow mist filtering out from the broken straw. "Let me see your _horror_," he whispered. The men were screaming within seconds, and Scarecrow relished it. He watched as they squirmed, their eyes gaping in horror, wet with tears on their faces. "Courage is self-deceit. I will show you fear in a handful of dust."

Scarecrow could still hear their screams down the hall. What they had taken was enough to kill them, but Scarecrow had been merciful and dropped it on the floor – it had filtered out by the time it reached their nostrils. Their lungs would burn, may be they would later collapse, but it would not be his gas that killed them. _I am not without mercy_, thought he who was notoriously without mercy.

He found his way out into the main courtyard of Arkham – he would go through the botanical gardens and out behind the cliffs. There was a boat there, he knew, that would lead him to safety. He'd sail right into Gotham Bay and nobody would be any the wiser. _I'm so clever_, he thought. The courtyard was a riot – screams and sirens were everywhere, and a blockade had already been set up at the gates, which were sealed. Spotlights swung around, looking for criminals. As Scarecrow approached the botanical gardens, slinking down behind bushes while he went, he saw glass all over the cobbled path and vines twitching at the doors. _Ivy got away, it seems_. Scarecrow didn't care about Ivy, and she didn't care about him. Without her, he never would have been able to create his fear gas. Her influence over plants allowed the engineering of the gas, and she seemed fond of the stuff – it amplified her abilities somehow. _Probably the pheromones within it_.

The botanical gardens were wild and overgrown. In a city like Metropolis this would never be tolerated. Scarecrow had never visited Stryker's Island in his supervillain disguise or in the form of Jonathan Crane, he doubted that he ever would. There was no allure to the place; the gothic charm of Arkham was lost on the high-tech fortress of Stryker's Island. Once it had been used to hold super-criminals like Joker and Freeze, but both had broken free within hours – Joker killed the Warden without anybody knowing and walked out of the place, and Freeze made it to the low security unit and massacred them with his freeze gun, which he managed to recreate out of makeshift weapons. _Impressive_, Scarecrow remembered.

Vines stretched across the roads, and exotic plants sprouted from within other plants. Bright colours seemed dark in the gardens of Arkham, and there was a sinister element to them. In the distance, he heard singing. There was an accent to the singing, though he couldn't identify it – he was drawn closer, against his better judgement. _What could stop me? I am an embodiment of fear_.

There he saw her in all her red and black glory; Harley Quinn was singing to a member of Two-Face's gang who was on his knees, begging for his life. "You know," she said in her nasally voice, "if you had just told me where he _was_ or where he was goin', this wouldn't be happening." Her leg snapped into the air and he fell over, wincing, clutching where she had kicked him. Blood spurted from his nose, likely broken with a sickening crunch. _I didn't see her in the supply room, or her things._ Harley was kept in the high secure unit, though in a different section from the temperature-controlled rooms – Ivy and her had a double-act past. _She must have come here with Joker's thugs to blow the place. But why?_

"You got once last chance," she continued. "Or I'll have ta finish ya here. Or I could take you to Mr J! Do you want that?" The man's sobbing became louder as he screamed no. Fear definitely isn't dead. He admired Harley in a way – she used their fear as a way of acquiring what she wanted. Physical force was not enough for her, no. She was clever. They had spoken before, before Scarecrow and Harley Quinn. He didn't remember it much, and doubted she did either.

"I don't _know anything_!" he pleaded, and tried to crawl backwards.

"Well, that's a shame," she said, and pulled out a submachine gun from her belt. "Goodbye!" She fired an entire round into the man; his body was pulp when she was done. She sighed and slung the gun back up, beside a giant mallet. "She shoots, she _scores_!" Harley giggled and turned to walk off, when she saw him. In his curiosity, he must have been drawn into the path. Her eyes widened.

"It's _you_," she said. She almost seemed pleased. "I got a _question_ for you, Mr Scary-Crow Man." She skipped towards him and put her hands on her hips. He thrust his hands into his pockets, clenching his hand tight around some straw.

"What questions would those be, Quinn?" Red and blue police sirens sounded in the background. Scarecrow looked back for a moment, and saw more cops pull up out front. The screams from outside were beginning to dim. Bedlam had taken the asylum, but order had been mostly restored to the outside. Still, through the greenery of the botanical gardens and the greenhouse he was in, he could see the upper floors of old Arkham aflame.

He looked back down to her and saw her face contorted in exertion, and then the mallet took him in the face.


	3. WONDER WOMAN I

**Author's note: **New chapter! I decided to edit a lot sooner than I expected, so here's the next chapter. There will likely be at least a day or two before the next chapter - a **BATMAN** chapter! - but it should be a goodie. This one was written by me, the next will be written by Gavin. I hope you enjoy it. We're laying our cards out on the table here. Stick with it, stuff's gonna get goooooood.

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**WONDER WOMAN**

Diana, Princess of the Amazons, surveyed the damage. Metropolis was suspended in a simultaneous state of disarray and confusion; sirens flashed and sounded from every corner of the city. Diana could hear the death. Something had unleashed Doomsday upon the city and hell had broken loose; Lex Luthor had died on scene from the injuries, and he hadn't been the only one. Diana wondered how Bruce was dealing with the situation that had arisen in Gotham. _Better than Kal-El is, I hope. _Lex's death had hit Superman hard – he had tried hard to save him, and he had failed. They were enemies, sure, but any failure was a blow to Kal's delicate mental state. It was not his fault, but still he had gone off the radar, as he did, and fled. She had phoned Lois Lane hours after he disappeared from the grid.

"I'm sorry Diana," Lois said, "I don't know where he is. I wish I did. What about the fortress?"

"I visited and he wasn't there. Cyborg scanned for him from Watchtower with no luck, I've tried calling from him… wherever he is, he doesn't seem to want to be found."

"He'll come back eventually, Di. He always does. Just give him time and I'm sure he'll figure out whatever he needs. He's probably gone back to the remains of Krypton. He's been there before, he told me he finds a sort of solace there," Lois explained. Lois imparted a sort of cool calm that Diana liked being subject to. _She is level-headed when I am off-balance._

Diana had been under the impression that only dust swirled where Krypton once was, but it seemed that the planet was now an obliterated landscape of ash where little but dust stirred in the wind. _Thank you for telling me, Kal_. "Where are you, Lois? Why aren't you in Metropolis?"

"I'm in Egypt. I can't say much but I think there's more to Hawkman's death than meets the eye. Sure, he dies and comes back every now and again but it doesn't mean he wasn't killed by something. Have you heard anything from Hawkgirl?"

"She's helping with the clean-up in Metropolis from the Doomsday situation. I wouldn't come home for a while, Lois. I have a bad feeling about this. Gotham is facing a dire situation," Diana said wearily.

"More so than usual?"

"Unfortunately."

"I'll stay here for a while. When Clark does get back, tell him I want a word. I have a Kryptonian bone to pick with him," she joked.

The conversation had taken place almost a full day ago, and though repair efforts had been fruitful, Metropolis seemed shady and broken. The sun sat high above the city but there was none of the usual silver sleekness to the art deco buildings. Instead of the brightest, sunniest July day it was, it felt more akin to nearing the end of August. _I mislike this feeling_.

Diana considered returning home to Themyscria, to seek counsel from her Amazon sisters, but Metropolis needed her. Lifting herself off the ground, she flew to Green Lantern, who was aiding with the restoration of the golden daily planet to its former home atop the Daily Planet building, floating in air at the top of the building. There was a solid barrier of light holding the item in place that allowed the engineers to rework the large rotating planet without the need of a hoist or crane. He seemed distracted, she noticed. Diana's capacity for empathy and recognising emotion, she felt, was one of her strongest powers, far greater than her flight or strength or endurance.

"Is all well, Lantern?" she asked. It was only in public she addressed him by his hero name, although she herself had no secret identity. Diana of Themyscria was known by her role as the warrior princess of the Amazons, and as a champion of Earth, Wonder Woman. Diana had never fallen to pride, and saw no reason to exploit these reasons.

"Diana, hello," he said. The green light wavered, as if disrupted.

"I did not intend to disturb you," she apologised. "Care for assistance?"

"It's fine… help would be nice, yeah," he said, nodding. _He does seem weary_, she noted. _The death of Luthor, and of innocents has bent us all out of shape._ She flew to the other side of the giant planet and brandished her lasso, wrapping it around one of the giant letters. She heaved and reduced the load that Lantern had to holster alone. _He is only as strong as his force of will, and that it seems is fading. _In the distance she could only just make out John's outline; the green light from his ring made him more of a silhouette than a man. _The Justice League is divided,_ she thought. _And some fell force is coming, and with some haste. I can feel it in the air. _

It took twenty minutes, even with the assistance of a demigod and a member of the Lantern Corps, before the globe was reattached, and it still did not rotate. "That'll take more time, ma'am," said one of the engineers when she flew down to the roof and asked him how long before it was in working order again. He had brown hair, small eyes and stubble as if he had not slept. _I imagine he hasn't slept. Work must be keeping engineers and metal-workers in shape at the moment. _"Without you guys help it would have taken a lot longer."

"Without _you_ we never would have needed your goddamn help," hissed a slightly another employee. The brown-haired employee, clearly a superior, spat back at the other. He shrugged and wandered off.

"I'm sorry," said the kindly engineer. "Not everybody shares my gratitude." In the background, a soldier had tensed up. The government had – understandably – sent a small military force into Metropolis to reinforce the police presence. A special division of the military had merged with Metropolis' famous science police to aid with the restorations, though their presence was more a promise than an aid. _A promise to whatever threatens this world. My world._

Wonder Woman and Superman acted as the official envoys between the science police and the League, and so they had a history. She raised a hand and the soldier relaxed a little, nodding. His armour was a dark shade of blue, a deviation from the green of the standard military. Superman had worked with Cyborg to design the armour, and then handed it over to the government to work with. Though it did not offer them a tactical advantage in ways of war, but it did help with energy beams and the sort of superhuman traits you'd expect from a villain. It aided with the enemies associated with Superman and Wonder Woman herself, but the devilish humans that plagued Batman like Joker were exempt. The science police were powerless against his chaos tactics; he used anything available, from the acid lapel to bolt guns. The sorceress Circe wreaking havoc with dark fire magic was one thing; Joker's brand of madness was different. Once, she would have advocated for Joker's death sentence, but that time was past. She no longer saw death as a method of control. _My time in the League has changed me – and my Amazon sisters too. _

"I understand his frustration," Diana empathised. "But these villains would arise regardless of whether or not heroes appeared. We stem the tide and do what we can. Sometimes, heroes do create their own villains… we live with that Well, we try to." She smiled and placed a hand on the man's shoulder, thanking him once more and then lifting off the ground and flying off. _If only I had been blessed with Kal's hearing. Then I could find Wally._ Usually, he and Lantern were inseparable, but it seemed this had pushed everybody apart in some way. Diana yearned for peace again, for a week ago! _How much better things were. _She and Bruce had been planning to take some 'time off' together; a café on the banks of the Seine, perhaps. Batgirl had made arrangements to pick up the slack in Gotham, but now even that seemed a distant memory, a hope that would not come to pass. Diana did not need the heat of the sun to feel happy but it reminded her of home, of Themyscria – the huge sun beating down on the white sands, warm cobbled stones beneath your feet – as close to paradise as Diana knew. Once, Metropolis had seemed like an idyllic paradise too. _Now the cold winds are rising_.

There was an unusual layer of fog creeping over the city. _This does not bode well_, she thought. Her eyes swept the city for any of the other League, and then she felt a presence and Lantern hovered at her side above the LexCorp building which seemed to have fallen into a quiet disrepair in the event of its CEO's death. Tess Mercer, a protégé of Lex, had taken over in his absence, but stocks had fallen and faith in the company was lost. Still, it was expected to make a full recovery.

"I feel weak, Diana," he said. "Follow me," he said, and flew off. They landed on the rooftop of the Hall of Justice, an unofficial meeting spot for members of the Justice League. They had already begun to congregate; Raven, Zatanna, Green Arrow and Flash stood together. They walked together. "Something is wrong," said Lantern. "I feel fear creeping into the city. Not yellow fear, just fear – something bad is coming."

"It's in the wind," Zatanna agreed. "My first thought was of Raven and of her demon father Trigon–"

"Thank you," Raven said in her standard monotonous voice. Wonder Woman smiled; Raven's deadpan humour had never failed to amuse her.

"… but it seems to be something else, something darker. The future is clouded. _Thgiserof_!" she cast, her hand circling in front of her. Purple smoke drew into a circle that seemed to be made of glass, and Zatanna peered inside. Wonder Woman could make out only pale shapes; she had no experience with Zatanna's brand of magic. "I do not see much," Zatanna explained. Images – a dead fish impaled on a spear of liquid silver. An angry tree fuelled by a yellow heart." Diana glanced to Lantern and wondered if the Yellow Lantern Corps were involved, but this did not feel like Sinestro. _He is minor league compared to what is coming_.

"And a double-deluxe chicken burger, I hope. Imagines ain't use to anybody until they've happened," Flash interjected. "Where's S-man, and Bruce?"

"I'm not sure. Kal is gone," Diana said. "For now he's out of reach; we do not need him to deal with whatever is in our way. Bruce is in Gotham… the Joker has surfaced again, and Bruce is dealing with it. It seems he does not like Bruce to be occupied by anything else." Diana wondered if the others could sense the resentment in her; she was a woman with the greatest capacity for empathy, but still she was victim to human emotion. She was disappointed. _Sometimes I wonder if Bruce and I are the only two in our relationship, or if the clown shares our bed._

"I've spoken to Cyborg," Flash said quickly. As always, he spoke the way he moved and, as such, Diana lived in fear of the day where Flash would have to explain something – you could see where his sentenced began and where they ended, but the middle was a blur of sounds. "He agrees that readings from Watchtower are _unusual_."

"Doomsday's attack does not seem random," said Raven. "The last time he fought with Superman, he was taken far into deep space. It was not so long ago… I doubt Doomsday would have been able to get himself back to Earth so quickly without assistance. I fear there's some greater evil at work here than Doomsday."

"Doomsday will not be a threat any longer. Clark and I dealt with him well. He is secured for now. But we need the others. Arrow, contact Aquaman," said Diana. "We may need his assistance, and that of the Atlanteans."

There was an uneasiness between Flash and Arrow that Diana did not miss. She looked at them and they looked back, two schoolboys caught in the middle of a rebellious act. "Arthur returned to Atlantis. He's left the league," Green Arrow said. He scratched his very well-kept, very blonde beard with his hand. "He didn't approve of your decision to trap Doomsday _in the ocean_, surprisingly. He argued with Cyborg late last night in the Command Centre of Watchtower and then left, took a teleporter and headed back to Atlantis. Told us not to contact him again."

_For the love of Athena,_ she thought. _We will need him in this fight, and he slinks back to his ocean city._ She felt a pang of guilt in her chest; she wondered how she would react if Doomsday was trapped in Themyscria; she cared deeply for her people, as Aquaman did for his own. _Still, he must aid us. Without both Kal-El and Bruce…_

She was going to vocalise her thoughts when she heard the fluttering of wings behind her. She and Lantern turned to face it, and all the heroes looked up. Green armour gave way to giant white wings, and a spiked hawk-head helm to match, but it was the mace that was the giveaway. She was the next to join the party atop the Hall of Justice. Diana wondered what she would have to add. Hawkgirl had said little recently; though her husband Hawkman and she lived with the promise of a cyclical resurrection, she always took the death hard. She poured her energy and grief into fighting crime; the duties of the league had been minimised before Doomsday's appearance thanks to Hawkgirl's fuelling grief. In the distance at first she seemed a pair of wings with a green body, but her shape became clearer. It was when you could make out the deep lines of worry on her face that the ship appeared behind her.

The machine looked a giant orange and blue crab with eyes, and it hovered in mid-air; Diana's eyes widened as she saw it extend giant mechanical claws, and she boomed off the ground, flying towards Hawkgirl with Lantern at her side. But it was too late; it grabbed Hawkgirl around the waist, smaller claws from inside ripping off her wings. From nearly a hundred feet away, Diana could hear her screaming.

She heard the crunch as life was wrung from her like water from a towel. Missiles of solid green light, projectiles of all sorts, rushed towards the giant machine at great speeds. There was a low _thrum_ it let out from hovering, some advanced technology. The missiles exploded upon impact but it was too late and Hawkgirl's lifeless body fell from the sky. Diana flew after it and caught it seconds before it hit the floor, clutching her lifeless body. "No, no," she whispered. Her hair whispered as though something was about to rush past her, and she thrust out her hand, grabbing it by the throat. She looked full of rage and saw the flustered face of Wally West and let him go. He looked down at Hawkgirl's body, civilians looking on curiously, some tearful. Diana could not see them. She heard an explosion from above and the shattering of glass. Lantern fought with the great domed machine.

"Get to _safe locations_," Diana heard Flash call. "Downtown Metropolis not safe. Evacuate, _now_! And phone the science police!" People began to scream and glass fell from the sky, buildings began to crumble as the machine rained down hell, spewing some form of laser. _How many people are in these buildings?_

She handed over Hawkgirl's body to Flash and flew at the speed of a bullet, arms outstretched and fists clenched; she flew through the beast and out the other end. Inside she became coiled in wires and was electrocuted but she did not care. She emerged from the other side with a broken nose, and then began a descent to fly through again, when she was suddenly aware of a green cloak around her, stopping her from going so fast. She saw John Stewart in the distance, whose eyes pleaded with her to be calm. She nodded and landed on the machine's back.

It took them ten minutes to hammer away at the giant machine; at the end they were exhausted. Diana needed to sit down. They returned to the Hall of Justice where they found Zatanna whispering incantations over Hawkgirl's still corpse. Diana placed her hands on her shoulders and she violently shrugged them off, speaking words faster; it almost sounded like she was singing a song. Zatanna knew she could not bring back the dead. Flash came in later, his red suit ripped and shredded in places, and Lantern looked worse still; his dark skin was bloodied and bruised already. Raven came in last and it seemed that her eyes were dark with worry and tears. They all stood over her body. "Even knowing that she will come back," Diana said, "still my heart bleeds and I miss her."

Raven looked deeply worried. "Over the skyline, past the beach… there are more. Fifty at least, stationary above the water two miles out."

Wonder Women nodded, and went to fetch her sword.


	4. BATMAN I

**Author's note:** This is another one by Gavin. Sorry for the belated upload, but to compensate I think I'll upload the next chapter - **HARLEY QUINN** - early. It should prove to be an interesting chapter; I've written on Harley before and I find she's fun to get under the skin of. Hopefully, she is as fun to read as she was to write. Enjoy the Batman chapter, though there's not much going on here. You've gotta set up the pieces before you can play chess, y'know? ;)

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**BATMAN**

He sped down the streets of Gotham, the Batmobile darting in and out of the little traffic there was. Far out to the east, the Batsymbol hung bright in the sky, standing in for a moon that was not there. Sections of Arkham Asylum were in flame, and the rest was in tatters. True enough, he had passed more than a single fire-truck on his way to the island, but there were some blazes in the streets, and they had to be dealt with too. Batman wondered if the insane had priority over the innocent. _These streets are empty_, he observed. _People know something bad is happening. _The people of Gotham must have acclimatised to disaster. He wondered why they hadn't moved.

Batman considered himself a good driver – there were few others that could drive such a long, heavy car with such precision. Nightwing had tried and failed in the past – the most he could manage was the Batpod, and Jason before him had struggled with both cars. Batman punched in the number for the Batcave.

"Master Bruce?" answered Alfred almost immediately, his voice seeming even more proper from the crackly speakers. _Bad reception at high speeds_, Bruce noted. _I should say to Lucius_.

"Tell me more about the riots at Arkham."

"It seems to be more than a riot I'm afraid, sir," Alfred said gravely. "It seems that the facility is experiencing a mass breakout. It seems likely at this point that the event was _coordinated_, sir."

"How did this happen?"

"Reports are still unclear, sir. There are only a few gangs or individuals with the resources to pull such a heist. More frightening still is the number of inmates that the asylum held."

After the death of Lex Luthor, the Secret Society of Supervillains had splintered. The Society lacked any real hierarchy, but Luthor was widely consideredthe leader. There was a power vacuum after his death that the others fought over. A civil war between super-criminals had left them exposed to double-crossing. The police were quiet on the how, but the leading instigators – Scarecrow, Penguin, Two-Face – had been rounded up and returned to Arkham.

The Batmobile took a sharp turn and shot down the long, straight bridge that led to Arkham Island. There were police checkpoints along the way, but they had been suspended to allow him to pass unimpeded.

"I'll find out more when I get there." _Gordon will update me on the situation_. _And speaking of Gordon – _"Where's Barbara?"

"I'm here!" a hurried voice cut in.

"How soon can you meet me at Arkham Island?" The car shot through the wide-swung gates of Arkham Island, and he noticed them beginning to swing shut. Rain battered hard off the car; the thin layer of oil he had coated with windows with was barely enough to stay the tide. He could see ahead, though just barely.

Gnarled, leafless oak trees lined the roadside, though there were no walkways for pedestrians. Signs warned drivers not to stop for any reason along the stretch, that hitch-hikers could be escaped inmates. The Asylum was up ahead, its crooked towers and slanted buildings against raging flame seemed to wave to him in the distance.

"On foot? About five hours, but with the _Badpod…_"

Ever since Bruce had repaired the agile and manoeuvrable bike she had expressed nothing but desire to use it. It had been broken for a long time, since before Barbara had even taken the mantle of Batgirl. Dick Grayson had used it for cover when he came under attack by Penguin's thugs – Bruce didn't hold it against him, it had saved his life, but only recently had he found the time to fix it. He had said no until now, but there was no time for games now. "Take it and get here as soon as you can." He heard a quiet cheer in the background.

"Do you wish me to call Master Grayson?" Alfred inquired.

"No. Dick has things to deal with in Bludhaven," Batman said. In truth, it had been months since Bruce had last seen his adopted son in person and he did want to see him again, but these were not the circumstances Bruce wanted for a reunion. _I will only call in Dick if the situation becomes desperate_, he thought. _And I hope it doesn't come to that._

"Master Bruce," Alfred said, his voice wavering. "This situation would usually have been a job for you, Barbra and Master Todd…"

"I've made my decision, Alfred," Batman replied, his tone final. It had been almost a year since Jason Todd had died; and Bruce remembered the night well. He dreamt of the night often, he imagined the sound of a Joker beating him viciously and laughing. He heard Jason scream and plead. He reached the cabin, and then he felt the heat of the explosion as it lifted him off his feet and sent him reeling.

There was a heavy silence on the line as the Batmobile drew into an abrupt stop outside the main entrance to Arkham. "Very well, sir," Alfred sighed, "Barbara has left."

"Keep me posted on any developments," Batman said as he left the car.

He left the car away in the darkness where it would not be seen, and strode towards the police barricade, his cape snapping in the high winds and rain lashing off him. He had long become accustomed to the climate of Gotham City, though there was something heavier than rain in the air tonight. The light of Metropolis made him uneasy; Batman's style was suited best to shadows. Some prisoners were being bundled into the back of a police truck, hands bound with handcuffs. None had bothered to put up tape to block off the area as it would only hinder the emergency services who battled against the blaze. "I'm on my way, Bruce," Barbara informed him over his cowl's radio. Faintly he could hear the high whirl of the Batpod's engine in the background. "How bad is it?" she asked.

A section of the entrance hall caved in, its moss covered stone walls falling as slate from the roof tumbled down to the ground. Bodies were being taken away from the base of the main clock tower which was also ablaze. Apparently the fall was preferable to the flames. The rain on the crackling symphony of the fire rolled together into one manic sound; Bruce Wayne could hear laughter. "Bad."

Commissioner Gordon stood by his patrol car, holding his coat closed with one hand and holding a radio in the other. The rain had soaked his wrinkled skin, his head of receding brown hair and his thick moustache. Even from the distance and without the aid of the cowl's telescopic vision, he could see his thick-rimmed glasses were beaded with water. "I don't care how many men you have to pull out of vacation, get me the men I need! I want every cop we have patrolling Gotham Bay! … I don't care, _find them_. Reach out to Star City, if you have to_!_" Gordon shouted into the radio.

"Commissioner," Batman said as he approached him.

Gordon's head snapped up at the familiar voice. _He looks terrible_. There were bags under his eyes; sleep had always seemed a foreigner to the man. _Juggling escaped criminals and the media, and waiting patiently for me to arrive. He has it as bad as I do. _ "I'll call you back," Gordon said. He sighed and tucked the radio into a big pocket, sealing it without looking, "Finally. I've been waiting for you. The place is a mess. We have officers at every entrance and still we don't have damn-near enough."

"What can you tell me?" he asked as he stepped to his side, inspecting the blaze.

Most of the thugs have high-tailed it out of here already, most of the super criminals with them. And with Arkham burning and Blackgate full we have nowhere to send them even if we round them all up again. We're into overflow."

"One step at a time," Batman replied.

"Easy for you to say, you aren't coordinating this damn mess whilst the media are breeding panic and fear at every turn. Panic and fear aren't going to solve this damn situation. There's rioting in old Gotham, Batman, and half the city has decided to set itself on fire. It's too much for us – not even you can deal with all of this."

"You'll manage. This isn't the first escape from the asylum," Batman said.

Gordon walked away from the ruins of the asylum, Batman following him like a shadow. "Give me one of them and I'll find the strength to take them, Batman, but flood out the entire asylum?" Gordon stopped in his tracks, and sighed deeply. "I don't think we can do it, Batman."

"There's always hope."

"The thought of every criminal you've ever locked up unleashed on the city doesn't make you shiver?"

"I don't scare easily."

"I've noticed. Ivy, Freeze, Croc, Bane, Clayface, Scarecrow," Gordon said counting the names off his fingers, "Two-Face, Zsasz, Riddler and Grundy were being held. We're in for a very long night."

"Do you know where they went?" Batman asked, his boots splashing through leaf-clogged drains.

"Ivy smashed up the botanical gardens it seems and then left. She might still be on the island somewhere. Freeze got his armour and froze a path across the water. It's too thin to follow but we think he's in Gotham's industrial sector. Croc dived into the bay, no getting him back. Bane and Clayface were some of the first to escape down the road and into the city. Scarecrow was sighted inside, and we found the bodies of some people who seem scared witless, but no one knows where he is. Two-Face took off with most of his crew; reports say he's downtown. Zsasz killed six orderlies and stole one of the asylum delivery boats. Riddler is a complete unknown. He left a riddle, but that's not priority at the moment – he's only a danger long-term. Grundy is actually the only one we're close to capturing. He ran down the Gotham strip screaming, we have him cornered."

"Grundy never was very bright," Batman agreed in an undertone. "What about Joker?"

"He had a hand in this." Gordon took of his glasses and wiped the rain from them with his soaking sleeve. "There are more clown thugs on asylum grounds than there are cops. We even found security footage of Harley Quinn going down some of the corridors. There is no doubt about it; the clown orchestrated the whole thing."

Joker always was good at organising chaos. They felt the heat from the explosion before they saw it, and lifted an arm to shield them from the blast. Stone and steel rained down on the people below, who scattered. Nobody was hurt, this time. Batman closed his eyes briefly and saw the night in all too much detail.

The rain lashed him, though his mind lashed him harder. _Almost there. Almost there_. His cape billowed and his eyes stung. "Where is he?"

"Just keeping going north!" Barbara had ordered him. "I'm still trying to triangulate his position!"

Speeding through red lights, stop signs and almost mowing down some people crossing the road. "Hurry!" He had seen surveillance footage of Joker kidnapping Jason; he had watched him beat him with a crowbar. When Batman watched the video, he knew he would dream about the footage. Some nights it played over and over in his mind; a looped nightmare, again and again.

It was the sound of the Badpod that stirred him. Help had arrived. "I have to go," he told Gordon as Batgirl brought the Batpod to a halt beside the Batmobile; she had seen it in the shadows, he knew. It was easy to spot when you were accustomed to the darkness as they were.

"Sure, I'll let you do your thing. Good luck out there."

Bruce was still wary of allowing her to speak to the Commissioner, despite her confident vigilante persona being almost indiscernible from the stuttering daughter of the police commissioner. Dismounting, Batgirl approached Batman. Her suit just like Bruce's, black armoured, pointed ears on the cowl, yellow utility belt, long black cape and of course a large bat emblazoned on the breastplate, but tightened to a fit on her curved figure. "You weren't kidding," she breathed, her eyes fixed on the asylum, "it is bad."

"I don't kid," Batman replied bluntly.

"I've noticed," Batgirl murmured.

"How are the streets?" Batman asked. _Barbra would come through old Gotham on the way here. Was Gordon right about the riots?_

"They're bad too, Bruce. Whoever isn't looting or vandalising is hiding. I had to stop five times on the way here to stop crimes in progress."

"Joker's got what he wanted. Gotham has gone mad."

"Joker?"

"Everything happening here is his doing."

"I'm not sure we can handle this on our own," Batgirl admitted suddenly.

"The Justice League have been occupied by the invasion."

"What about Nightwing?"

"No," he said sternly, "We do this our way."

"Then let's fight them as a family, Bruce." She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Call him."

_Barbara is right_, he realised. They would need all the help they could get to deal with this threat, and Bruce was filled with a dark thought - that this was just the beginning. Joker had not yet revealed his plan, there was something else to it. _There's worse to come_. Having Nightwing would increase their chances of success, and he would have to call in the League too. _I cannot do this alone._ He pushed a finger to the side of his cowl and placed the call.

"Hey, B-man," said a voice he recognised as Dick's. He almost smiled, he had not spoken to him in some time. "What's up?"

"I need your help."

"What can the handsome and charming Dick Grayson do for you?"

"Have you seen the news in Gotham?"

"Uhhhhh…" Bruce heard a faint clicking of a TV remote. The line was silent for a few moments, he could hear Vicki Vale in the background. He had noticed the car earlier, but press were not allowed on Arkham Island – not that it stopped them trying. Even she, it seemed, had the good sense to stay clear this time. "Sit tight," Dick said, his voice more serious. He heard the television flicker off and Dick begin to move. "I'm on my way."


	5. HARLEY QUINN I

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **After an absence of a few days, I've decided to post this chapter. It was the first thing that I wrote (yes, this is a Me chapter) for the piece, and I have a strange liking for the character. Let's hope I captured her deranged obsession. As always, read and review and follow and favourite! Hope you enjoy!

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**HARLEY QUINN**

Mister J would be so angry if she didn't get the information that he needed so badly. Maybe he would never smile again, so Harley backhanded her prisoner hard. She lived to see her J smile. _Just tell me what I need to know_, she thought. _This will all be over if you just tell me what I need to know_!

"Just tell me what I need to know," she said. "This will all be over if you just tell me what I need to know!" She slapped him hard again. Harley had a wiry strength; more than people thought so, anyway. She could hold her own with J in a fight, she knew, although his fighting tactics were very _dirty_. He didn't play fair at all, but it never bothered her. They only ever fought because she was always doing things so _wrong wrong wrong_.

His mask was strewn on a table a few feet away. A few hours before, when the 'questioning' first started, she had tried it on. It had smelled terrible and given her awful stomach cramps. She wouldn't be trying that again. _Probably still some of his damn fear gas in the mask_. She reasoned that Crane was immune to the stuff by now; slightly exposure here and there left him with a very healthy immune system, and no doubt only in excessive doses would it have any effect on him. _Disappointing_. She had wanted to try it on him _so badly…_

"I'm not going to tell you how to make it, you fucking clown," he said. Sweat knitted his brow and his fringe was damp and stuck to his pale face; he almost positively _grey_. Harley bit her bottom lip and thought for a moment, then began to tut. She walked off, over to the table where his mask was, and then picked up a large carving knife. Inspecting and smiling, she skipped back over to Crane, who was tied very tightly to a metal chair. "It has to be this chair, Har," J had grinned. She would never seek to question his wonderful, wonderful judgement – but she did ask why. She'd received an answer, and hard slap to the jaw. "_Because_, my little maniac, it's the most uncomfortable chair in all of Amusement Mile!" Then he wheezed and laughed his dark, twisted, beautiful fantastical laugh. That had made Harley laugh too.

"You're not gonna like this, Mr Scary Crow-Man. You're not gonna like this _one_… _bit_," she said. She didn't stab him, though – Harley was under strict orders to not wound him badly. She could maybe remove a finger or something, but where was the fun in that? Harley raised the carving knife slowly as if to stab him, and slapped him hard with the flat edge across the cheek. Harley Quinn had learned how to handle knives from the best. "_Stop resistiiiing_!" she moaned, stomping her feet. "I am to knives what Superman is to… _flying_." She paused. "_Very_ good at it."

"Listen, Quinn," Crane said. His voice was gurgling, blood leaked from his mouth. "The formula is no use to you. Joker will probably try to _test_ it on you!"

With tears filling her eyes she slapped him again with the knife, and then thrust it deep into his thigh. He screamed out in anger. _Don't you dare talk about Mr J like that! You don't know anything about my puddin'!_

"You think you're so _clever_ with your _medical degree_ and your _psychiatry_, don't you? Well you psychiatrists don't know everything! I outta know Mr Scary Crow-Man, I _was_ one! You remember? Me and you had a conversation once, and I diagnosed them for you." Harley's eyes became glazed over as she was lost in the treacherous currents of memory. She got mixed up a lot these days, but pieces came to her now and again. She remembered meeting Crane for the first time; he had not been very handsome even then. His black hair was oily and his eyes had yellowy bags. His skin was pale and sallow.

"Hello. It's nice to meet you Dr Crane. My name is Harleen Quinzel. I'm here today to –"

"Evaluate me, yes. I've seen them all before. Today they decided to send a pretty face." Her skin had crawled. _If Mr J had heard you say that,_ she had said to herself, _he would mount your head on a big spike_. But she couldn't have. _Did I know my prince all that time ago?_ She didn't think so. Time ceased to be flat when she had met her one true love. Sure, he beat her and told her she was worthless, but she knew that this was the one case where he was one – she felt so _useful_ when she was with him. Like she had a place in the world.

She snapped back to real life. Crane was in the middle of saying something. "I don't know anything of what you just said, so shut _up_ or I will cut you _again_." She looked at him and he was crying. _Aw_. She wrapped her tiny hand around the big handle of the knife and pulled; it did not move. "Oh dear," she said. "It's stuck." He screamed as she tugged at the knife back and forth. It was stuck because of the rough fabric his costume was made of. "See, goddamn, this is _your_ fault, you crazy man!" She twisted the knife in his leg around until it came loose and she got it out. She looked at the injury and squinted. "Very messy," she said to a wincing Scarecrow. "All this blood, you probably need to see a doctor. _Luckily_, I know one. _ME_!" she laughed whilst he cursed her.

Harley took a few steps back and had a look around. She could see herself everywhere, reflected in the mirrors that lay strewn around the room; they were deep in the bowels of a funhouse, J's personal favourite hideout. The mirrors were there for storage, she reckoned. _How many years of bad luck would he get if I smashed his head against every mirror in here?_ Harley mused. She wore tight jeans that showed off the gap between her thighs; one leg black and one red. Following the pattern, her top looked similar – straps of black and white bared her arms and heaved up her breasts. Two belts came around her waist acting as a sort of corset; it allowed for efficient athleticism, and Harley was a master gymnast.

"_Ooooo Haaaaaarleeeeey_," a high voice cooed from outside, paired with whistling. Her heart fluttered when she heard his voice. She tried to run to him and fell over a chair, so she was on the floor when he entered. He looked positively beautiful; he wore a purple suit striped with a faint yellow over a beautifully dark yellow shirt with fourteen buttons, complimented beautifully by a bright green bow tie that matched his hair colour exactly. A dead flower was in his lapel pocket. _Always the joker_, she said, gazing up and smiling at him. He looked so _happy_. There was a chain hanging from his purple trousers, as always, which had blood and mud on the bottom of them. "_Hello_ there, Harley. How is our little… _project_, coming along?" he asked and giggled darkly, entering the room with a merry bounce.

Harley slowly came to her feet and fell in behind him. "He's very stubborn, sweetie," she said. He turned to her, his voice deep and growling and his face darkened with rage.

"Then it's your fault, Harley. You're _useless_," he slapped her hard. She whimpered and stuck out her bottom lip, which was bleeding. He turned back to Scarecrow. "Gee, you look _terrible_. Somebody call the _cops_! Hahahaha!" He laughed manically, almost choking, and then he stopped and – with expressionlessly – looked at Crane. "You look so _messy_. I bet Harley had a lot of _fun_ with _that_," he said, pointing at the gaping knife wound. Blood was starting to crust around it. "Harley, did you give him any of his own _gas_?" Joker asked, head tilted to the side. Harley shook her head.

"No, puddin'! Why?" She looked at him. He looked terrified.

"Listen, Joker," he began to stutter. "If you want the formula, I can give you it… but I don't know – it just seems a bit – we can surely come to an arrangement, you're a _smart _man and…"

"Please stop," Joker said. "Just _tell_ us already. I'll even let you write it down! I'm very good at _chemistry_, you know."

"You are?" asked Harley.

Joker turned to her, grinning darkly and laughing deeply. "Everybody needs a hobby, Harley!" He pranced around the room for a little while before he came across the table holding all of Scarecrow's things – loose strands of straw, a small fun-sized scythe, and a cluster of straw that seemed to stick together. Joker watched Crane as he ran his fingers along the length of the clump of straw, giggling all the while. _He's so nurturing_, Harley thought from the side with a doe-eyed smile.

"_Ooo _Craaaaane," J said. "Do we have a _winner_?" He approached him and kneeled in front of him, mouth stretched wide, teeth in front of Crane's eyes.

Crane shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about, Joker… let me _go_, will you?"

"You don't have a lot of _options_ here, ol' buddy ol' pal," he said and sat down on Crane's lap, who winced in pain. "We can do this my way…" He took a deep breath and held the straw at each side, as if going to snap them. "… or the _difficult_ way."

"DON'T SNAP IT!" Crane screamed, his voice shaking almost as much as his face was. His clothes were wet from sweat; Harley could see it. She came closer to them and wondered how J even managed to sit on him with the smell. She wondered if J would sit on her if she smelled like that. She thought he would.

J jumped up from Crane's lap and did a sort of celebration dance with his hands. "Drown the kids and shoot the neighbours, we've got ourselves a _winner_!" He looked at the strands of straw. "There can't be _much_ in here, but it should be enough. I've breathed in this stuff _once before_, did you know? Your own creation filled these gleeful lungs!" He laughed manically after almost every sentence. "I remember it well. I was stealing everybody's things, hehehe, for no particular reason. I took some of Bane's venom – he tried to _kill_ me! I wanted to face the flying rodent, but instead I got a WWF _reject_. Still, I pushed on… I stole some of your toxin. Couldn't help it. Tried some of it."

Joker took a few steps back and hoisted himself up onto a table, the room was quite but for Scarecrow's occasional wincing. "I felt woozy woozy woozy and the world slipped away from me, there was _darkness_. There were angels and serene music. I was basked in heat and drawn towards a blinding light." Joker looked at Crane. "I've never been more frightened in my life. It was terrible." He started to wheeze and laugh and giggle madly. Harley giggled too. _Oh, puddin'. He never told me that story!_

"I'm glad you helped me out, Crane. I really am. It would have been _much harder_ to do all this without you. That said, I make it up as I go along! Ahahahaha!" J giggled and approached Harley. "Oh, and one more thing," he said, turning back and waltzing over to Scarecrow. He took out an oversized gun from inside his purple coat.

"Why are you doing this, Joker? Villains don't kill _other villains_!"

J paused for a moment and looked deep in thought, and then the happy malice returned to his eyes. "I have a lot of free time. Everybody needs a hobby!" He fired one bullet into Crane's head.

Harley squealed with delight and applauded J, who turned and bowed. "Oh, puddin'. That was _wonderful_!"

"I know. Now, let's go make our beloved city bleed for the Bats. Gotham is an ugly city, full of shame with no hope of _redemption_. She's a sad old whore, Harley, but oh she's beautiful when she cries! I love her when she cries!"

"Oh, yes, Mista J. Is there anything I can get for you whilst you work?" _I know how busy he gets when he works. Sometimes he's so busy laughing he can't even talk to me! _

"A lemon tea would be _fantastic_," he said, and they skipped off to make the old whore cry and bleed.


	6. GREEN ARROW I

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **After a wait of a week, here's the next chapter. Sorry it took so long! To compensate I'll add the next sometime today or tomorrow. It'll be either a **DEATHSTROKE** chapter or a **GREEN LANTERN** chapter. Which would you prefer to see first? _Tell me in a review!_ But yeah, thanks for sticking with me for this long. The story is just getting warmed up. So, without any further pause, here is the new chapter of _Justice League Divided_. Enjoy.

**GREEN ARROW**

Dust scattered from the fissured ceiling of the Queen Industries entrance hall, filling the lungs of Oliver Queen. The marble floors and pillars were striped with gaping cracks, and explosions and red light sang outside, a song of war and fire. He thought a little about the price of the building and cringed a little. _Hopefully there are insurance people to deal with this, when this is all over. If this ever ends._ It seemed to Green Arrow that this would not end - for a week now, endless battles had been fought over ground in Metropolis; it had become a need for territory. Oliver was fighting now to reclaim his own property.

There was a red blur about the room; at intermittent intervals, it would become a man, punch a creature with some velocity, and rush off again. Oliver smiled. Even in dark days, Flash managed to have a little fun. The science police used loose desks as cover; it had been a problem, initially - Oliver's minimalistic style meant that there were few options for cover within the ground floor, but the roof had caved in and spilled the contents of the office above. _Handy, but it's gonna cost me a fortune_. He fired an explosive arrow into a wall crack behind too, and the wall collapsed on top of them. They whirred, almost like screams.

Flash saw Oliver striding out, bow at the ready, firing arrows that exploded on impact. He had to be careful, his supplies were waning. Flash may have a practically inexhaustible port of energy, but the mortals among them did not. Sometimes he envied the powerful of the Justice League, though it was nothing to dwell on. Oliver could hold his own against one of these robots. They hirred and whined when he exited the corridor fully, firing arrows into their midst. They too began to take cover. Small orange balls of energy fired from their guns, sometimes red. It varied.

He felt the wind on his shoulder and knew Flash was beside him; he had become accustomed to his entrances. They both crouched behind cover, Oliver still firing arrows all the same. One of the creatures violently burst apart as the arrow's explosion pushed. "What's the skinny, skinny?" Oliver said.

"Well, Captain Leather," he replied with a smirk, "Brainiac's been deploying troops like there's no tomorrow. Seems like he's waiting for something, though. Diana isn't sure about what's going on either. She's with Raven. The roborabblerousers have been coming out of the sewers, so they're probably in there too."

"Any word on Batman?" Oliver asked.

"Still in Gotham. Joker times his punchlines. We're probably not gonna see him."

"Yeah," Green Arrow sighed. Bruce would have been invaluable in all of this. Just his presence boosted the morale of the science police, and the regular. There was something sinister about Batman, but the mystery only intrigued people even more. He had always been more popular than Oliver. _At least I don't have to deal with the Joker._

Arrow looked out the grimy, ash-coated windows. Ships like giant skulls floated in the red sky in a battle with the air force for air superiority. Black smoke rose from buildings alight, the sounds of screaming and explosions ran over the city like the afterwave of an earthquake. But no, Oliver thought. This isn't the afterwave. Pre-wave.

"Could really use some help from ol' red and blue tights, but no. He has to run away with his cape between his legs because he's having an existential crisis."

Oliver nodded. _Some help would be appreciated_. _Maybe we'd have a shot at ending this quicker with Superman._ "So what's our next move?" Oliver asked.

Flash's smile waned. "Diana called me and said she wants us to lead the science police into the sewers and find their operation centre down there while she and the rest of the high-flyers look for Brainiac."

"The sewers? I just had my suit dry-cleaned!" Oliver huffed.

"I know the feeling," Flash said, picking at a tear in the arm of his suit. "This is brand new."

"Hate to break-up fashion weekly," a female voice interrupted over their radios, "but Diana just called to me to kick your asses in gear."

"Watchtower," Oliver replied deciding it was best not to call the woman by her real name, Chloe Sullivan. Chloe had been an old friend of Superman's, though from an alternate universe. During the crisis on infinite earths, she had been stuck here. Oliver liked Chloe. "Flash and I were just getting ready to move, so don't get all high and mighty on us. We get enough of that from Princess Di."

"Yeah, well our Amazonian Ass-Kicker is busy at the mo, if you'd like to leave a message..."

"Let's rust some of these tin bastards," Oliver said with a smirk, and withdrew another arrow from his quiver.

The revolving door entrance was sent spinning as a bloody and beaten member of the science police rushed inside. "Run!" he shouted as an explosive shock wave tore through the building.

Glass flew through the air, including almost everyone in the room, as a missile struck the ground outside the building, swiftly turning the tarmac into rubble. Flash was struck in the face by the remnants of a motorcycle which sent him spinning uncontrollably through the air. Swept up in the shock wave too Green Arrow was sent crashing into the reception desk with a resounding bang. Rolling across the floor he clutched his head and groaned in pain. A Brainiac trooper leapt in through the shattered window. It's body was a shiny black metal with rounded yellow eyes and ridged unmoving mouth full of pointed teeth. "Targets identified," the drone growled in an electronic voice, "Green Arrow and the Flash. Moving to terminate."

Glass ripped through the air, the concussive blast lifting all in the room off their feet. Flash was taken in the face by the remnants of a charred motorcycle, Oliver saw as he flew, his eyes blurred with water. He rolled up and back behind cover, and saw Flash through, with some effort, the motorcycle into another robot. A robot lept in through the broken window, which functioned now more as a door. Its body was shiny black, round and still yellow eyes meant its head had to move for it to see. Still, Oliver knew its vision was probably still better than his.

"Targets identified: Green Arrow and the Flash. Moving to terminate."

In a single bound it landed by Oliver's side, long metal fingers grabbed him by the quiver and lifted him into the air.

Oliver quickly and sharply thrust his bow into one of its eyes. It whirred and jerked back, dropping Oliver, and then a red flash became one with the machine as he collided with it shoulder-first. Arrow fell onto the floor and watched as Flash bet the drone, each punch sending it back a dozen feet, and then continuing. Flash continued this out of sight, and Oliver could hear his exertion. "Is everyone alright?" Oliver asked the room.

Few replied, some lay with their eyes rolled back in their heads, blood gargling from them. "FLASH!" Oliver screamed.

In an instant Wally was by his side again. "Sorry," he replied, "Got a little carried away."

Oliver looked at their suits. Deep gashes in his green filled with grazes and burns, and the gashes in Flash's red pinks and blacks, charred at the edges. "Well our suits are fucked anyway now," Oliver said.

A worried look came over Flashes face as he looked behind Green Arrow. "Yeah," he said tensely. "I think our sewers dwelling friends are coming to us."

Like zombies from the grave, they tumbled out of the rubble that had once been a road. Their heads turned and focused again on the duo, yellow eyes trained on them. "Targets confirmed," they said together. "Moving to terminate."

"Take cover!" Oliver ordered as he dove for cover and Flash sprinted away. "Flash!" Green Arrow snapped as he drew his bow and fired an incendiary arrow into the closest drone.

A blur of red shot down the street, tackling one of the drones away before coming back for another. "Watchtower!" Oliver snapped into his radio. "We need back up! Send back up! Send anyone!"

"Okay, okay, hang on," Chloe said.

"Please, take your time!" Wally shouted as he charged the robots again.

"Never thought I'd say this, but I would welcome Booster Gold's help right now!" Oliver said as he fired a hand full of explosive arrows into the enemies midst.

In a flash of purple Zatanna was by Green Arrow's side. Her long black tailcoat was ripped along with her fishnet stockings, her white shirt covered in dirt. It seems she had lost her magicians hat and burned some of her long curly black hair. _Aww, now she can't pull the rabbit out of the hat. _"Zatanna," Oliver grunted as he fired more arrows, "Gonna magic them away?"

"You asked for my help!" she argued as she rushed for cover.

"Erif!" Zatanna thrust out the palms of her hands, and burning spheres wrapped in coiled fire were released. Like grenades she tossed them around the corner towards the enemy, covering her face when she was safely behind cover. An inferno rolled through the streets, guided by her magic, red flame on black metal. They whirred and complained over danger.

"Damn!" Wally laughed as he appeared by Zatanna's side. "Your old man taught you that?"

Zatanna winked and smirked playfully. "That's just the boring stuff," she assured him.

Faintly Oliver heard something, a low thrumming electronic noise. Beams of continuous orange light struck the scorched ground outside. More drones stepped out of the light, all of them facing the Queen Industries building. "Target identified," they all spoke at once, "Zatanna. Moving to acquire."

"Aw hell to the naw," Zatanna sighed, and rained down fire again.

Instead of incendiary grenades this time the fire came out in a stream like a flamethrower, focused on them. Beams of concentrated flame, rushing towards the new onslaught.

The science police fired their advanced rifles, Oliver his prized bow full of tick arrows and Flash darted around the waves of incoming fire to land a few punches before darting away again. Green blast of energy were thrown their way from the drones in retaliation. Oliver saw one of the blasts hit burn right through an Officer's chest, the instant corpse falling to the floor. _Look at that! _Oliver thought heatedly. _I'm one of the leading commanders in this section of the battle for Metropolis – me! - a guy with no powers and no clue what he's doing! I should have stayed as a vigilante back in Star City. _

Zatanna's flames kept the drones at bay well enough, lightning strung into the fire for good measure. _This one's creative_, he thought. Flash ran around the room for momentum, uppercutting whatever lucky drone he had selected to punch into the sun. Oliver was trying to coordinate what was left of the science police under his command. "You two!" he shouted. "Get to the roof and find out where those beams are coming from! Radio me when you know!"

"Yes, sir!" they shouted before retreating to the elevators.

"Arrow!" Zatanna panted as she hid from the drones. Sweat was dripping from her face and her hands were blackened with soot. "I can't – I can't keep it up!"

"Hang on!" he shouted to her, drawing another arrow and slipping it into his bow.

A green blast seemed to go towards Zatanna in slow motion, and Oliver's heart almost burst. She threw up a barrier at the last minute, but it was shredded, and her shoulder garments burst and seared.

"Get away from her!" Oliver shouted as he fired an arrow into an approaching drone. Even with its razor sharp armour piercing tip cutting through its chest the drone still lumbered forward. "Target acquired," the drone announced as it wrapped its fingers around a clump of her hair and dragged her outside.

With a large chunk of her flesh burned by the shot she was in no shape to struggle against it. She wielded more flames, but they did not even seek to repel the intruder. "Zat!" Green Arrow yelled as she was dragged towards one of the beams. Firing more arrows into the drones back he searched his quiver for a trick arrow of some kind. In his desperation he forgot about the other drones who turned their weapons on him. "Watch out!" Flash yelled as he pushed him out of the line of fire.

With their prize in their grasp the drones made their retreat. "Come on! We've gotta help her!" Oliver snapped as he tried to rush back into the fray.

"Are you crazy!? You'd be killing yourself!" Wally yelled.

"We can't lose Zatanna!"

Arachnid-like drones had arrived, their skull shaped bodies and thick yet pointed legs who quickly formed a circle around Zatanna, shielding her from any kind of rescue attempt. "Come on! Speed out there and get her!" Oliver ordered. He stood up to fire arrows into them, but they were assailed from behind with explosions and beams.

Flash sped towards them, beating them, Arrow fell to the ground, injured. He lifted himself off the ground, clutching his bloodied chest, suspected broken ribs. He raised his bow and fired an arrow clumsily into the crowd that did little. He couldn't use explosive arrows for fear of injuring her.

"Leave me!" Zatanna shouted to them, the machines screaming in the distance. "Get Clark back! Don't lose hope!" And then in a sheet of blue light, Zatanna was gone, disappearing into one of the beams.


	7. DEATHSTROKE I

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** So here we are. It's a short chapter because it's just a bridge showing us Deathstroke's mindset and plans, so I'll post the next within a few hours. Progress on this will slow a little, as I'm working on another fanfiction for _The Last of Us_, a game I've become sort of enthralled by. Still, expect an update every few days. As for what's up next, it's going to be Green Lantern. I've been putting it off for a long time but it technically fits anywhere into the middle of the story. It's written, but I'll read it once more to see how it sounds and then get it up. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Thanks for all the favourites, follows and support. You guys keep me going.

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**DEATHSTROKE**

Deathstroke flicked the channel back to Gotham news. _Any day now_, he thought, _they will say I am the cause of Doomsday's rampage and hunt me down. I look forward to that day_. There was a woman reporting on the screen, rain beating down hard on the black umbrella she held in one hand, protecting the microphone she held in the other from the torrent above. Even for Gotham weather, this was unprecedented.

"It seems a group of the Joker's men have been sacking homes and destroying the property. Sources say the Gotham police department have deployed armed response units to counter the threat with little succession," she said, almost shouting to be heard above the background noise.

There was a burst of flame behind her, and she jumped, beginning to retreat. Men wearing clown masks threw molotov cocktails into homes and stores. Lightning flashes above, illuminating the street, and thunder split the sky with its rumble. Vale began to retreat with the other reporters that had crowded the area, the fire spilling close to her heels. She pulled the camera back onto her, regaining focus. "Batman, although said to be on route to the scene, has not yet been sighted, nor has Batgirl. It seems that the experience of the breakout on Arkham Island has scared the dark knight into submission. Batgirl was said to have accompanied him to the asylum, where the breakout occurred earlier today."

Slade pushed his aching body out of the chair, a bottle of whisky in hand. Bandages were wrapped around his arms, his bare chest and around his face. The safe house in which he had found refuge was small, dark and cramped. More suited to the growth of mushrooms than a home, really. A mattress sat in the opposite corner of the room and a ratty old closet was built into the far wall, there was little inside to provide. Around the small window was the dark stain of damp. He walked over to the mattress, passing his blood-stained broken armour, and collapsed in a heap of sore bones on top.

Deathstroke reached into the space between the mattress and the wall and retrieved the only spoil of his latest battle: a large metal collar that had been clamped around Doomsday's throat. When Superman and his Amazonian posse had arrived to save the day two minutes late, it seemed to break and fall off. He had lifted it when he heard the sirens in the distance. _Those two minutes ruined my damn life_, he thought.

He took the collar and dragged himself into the hole in the floor through which Doomsday made his appearance. Bleeding and hopeless he staggered through the Metropolis sewers until he found himself on the outskirts of the city. It had been no problem then to brandish a rifle in front of a frightened family of five and acquire their homely people carrier. It felt like a lifetime ago he had collapsed for the first time onto the mattress.

He reached out to his own contacts within the underworld. When Doomsday had broken Lex Luthor, he had broken Deathstroke's reputation too. _I fought a monster that gave ol' red and blue a run for his money. I couldn't have won._

Slade had lost count of the number of whiskeys and scotches he'd swallowed in an attempt to numb his failure. Unfortunately, his rapid healing meant drink was rendered mostly useless, but he still felt slightly tipsy if he drank hard and fast enough. It stung as it slid down his throat. _What else can you do when times are rough? Head in the sand._

Gotham had seemed like the safest place – if the police had caught him, he had no doubt they would throw him into a small, windowless cell and wait for the government to take him away. Maybe they'd even sentence him to death, he didn't have the insanity defence like most of the damned criminals he worked with. Doomsday's naughty dog collar would be tucked away with his swords and his guns, and he would be left a bored boy. _What does that make me now?_

The Justice League would listen to him, though their self-righteous skin would crawl at the thought, but reaching out to them was not optional – he need the police to stop looking for him. The League would ensure that he was reduced to a low priority, though considering the events in Metropolis he wondered if he still was a high. Regardless, he needed a way to contact the superfriends. _Is there a return bus to Themyscira? If only I had a rocket, that way I could fly to Watchtower. _

"It seems that Batman has finally arrived on scene," he heard in the distance and his attention snapped back to the television.

He knew that he was his only option. _If my mother were alive to see the day I'd have to turn to the caped crusader in all his pointy-eared glory._

Outside he could hear a mob forming. Shouting drifted through his open window as did the sound of shattering glass and car alarms. _Douse the world in gasoline and these civilised people will be the ones to strike the match._ It wouldn't be long before the opportunists found their way to his apartment. There should be no need to spill more unnecessary blood tonight. Deathstroke was a sociopath, sure, but he was no sadist.

He stood and unwrapped the bandages from his arms, chest and face. Barely a scratch remained. He retrieved his eye-patch from his pocket and wrapped it over his missing eye. Throwing open the closet doors he pulled free a panel of rotting wood. Behind it was a thumb print scanner set against a metal wall. Pressing his thumb against it he waited. There was a delay of a few seconds, and then the scanner gave back an affirmative chirp. The metal wall slid away into the wall to reveal a new set of armour, black and yellow like he liked. He almost smiled as he pulled it back on. It was as much a part of him as his eye had once been. He had lost that forever, but the armour could be replaced.

Slade made his way to the window and hung the heavy collar from his belt. He hadn't reached the window when he had the crackling, the TV bursting into life and singing. Crackle crackle crackle. He barely paid it any notice, until he heard the voice.

"Hellooooooo?"

_Not you. _

Slade went ridged at the voice, and the giggling. He walked back, and watched the screen until static was replaced by a full green eye surrounded by paper-white skin.

"Ahh! There you are!" The Joker laughed as he moved the camera back so it took in his full face.

It was certainly him; the cheap purple suit and the receding head of green hair, mouth of yellow teeth, the pail white skin and the large red grin. When you described Joker's appearance you had little choice but to compare him to a clown, but there was nothing comical about him – his grin like two red worms, his skin like a corpse, and the eyes... Those eyes scared him. "Hello, Gotham!" he sang. "It's ME! Your friendly uncle J!"

_What the hell are you up to, clown? _Joker held the camera high and began to walk. Joker's exploits at Arkham had dissolved the city into chaos, and now it seemed he had decided to gloat for the whole world to see. _You would think they'd learn that, after Joker does anything significant, he hijacks a damn television broadcast. Every. Single. Time._

"I was just sitting at home thinking, "Hey! You know what? I haven't done something special for the good people of Gotham in such a _very_ long time!" He gave a mischievous smirk, like he had a prank set and was now waiting for the trap to spring shut on its victim. "So I decided to cook something up with my good old pal Scarecrow!"

Joker dropped into the lap of seated man. Grabbing him by his hair he lifted his head for the camera, which he still held at arm's length, as though there was something distasteful about it. Scarecrows eyes had were glazed over and devoid of life. Probably because of the giant bullet hole in his skull_. _"Say Scarecrow," Joker said looking to the corpse, "What have you cooked up for me today?" Scarecrow didn't answer. "Oh, he's a shy one. Scared of public speaking. And pretty girls." Joker added in a whisper.

Someone else took the camera from him as he used his other hand to grab Scarecrows jaw. "I said, what have you cooked up for me today?" the Joker repeated.

"Ya Joka!" Joker cheered in a terrible Dutch accent as he clumsily worked Scarecrow's jaw up and down. "I has been vorking on sumteing beig!"

"Oh ho ho ho! Exciting stuff! Come on tell me! Tell everyone! I can barely contain myself!"

"You kno dat gas you lov soo mach? Da laughfly wan?"

"Yes! Yes I do!"

"As dat yello scary gas I makes for my familay?"

"Why yes I do!"

"Wellllll... weth a lettle beet of chmestry an brain pover I mad a hybreed weth da both of deem!"

"Why, Scarecrow! That's amazing!"

"I kno!"

"Yeah! Now shut up, I'm talking!" Joker snapped as he leapt to his feet and shoved Scarecrow over. He grabbed the camera back and held it close to his face, like a child playing with a phone. "So now you've heard my closet Dutchman's announcement I'd like to make one of my own." Tossing the camera back to the cameraman he threw his arm open. "My greatest gag is ready to roll!" Thrusting his hand into his coat pocket he drew an oversized detonator with the dramatic flourish one associated with Joker. "You're all gonna love this one!" he assured the viewers as he extended its silver antenna and holding a thumb over its elaborate oversized red button, "Get scared Gotham! Cause this is going to be hilarious!"

Striking the button, he howled with laughter and the camera's feed went dead. There was a distant rumbling and the ground began to tremble. _God, he's gotten his hands on a nuke! _Deathstroke thought in a moment of panic.

He rushed over to the window and looked outside, over the low buildings of old Gotham. Giant clouds of yellow gas rose from the streets, enveloping buildings and the amassing mobs across all of Gotham. Deathstroke could hear their screams mingled in with their hysterical, choking laughter. _I have to find Batman._ He ensured first that his oxygen filtration system was working within his mask, and then he vaulted out the window. _I'm not yet willing to hold my breath, _Slade thought as he vaulted out into the street, and the rising clouds of thick yellow.


	8. BATMAN II

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Howdy there. Welcome back. Next installment is another chapter from Gavin. The next will either be our first chapter from **GREEN LANTERN** or our first from **SUPERMAN**. It depends on what we feel continues the flow of the story_. _Let us know what you liked, or didn't like. Read, review, favourite, follow! :D

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**BATMAN**

It had not taken long for Joker's new toxin to sweep the streets of Gotham. It clung low to the ground, likely by design to keep it dissipating. In the time it had taken for warnings to reach the science police in Metropolis, thousands were already dead. Hospitals spilled out onto the polluted streets and the grinning, terrified dead littered the streets. Gas masks had become prized items. Air conditioning was blocked off, vents were taped over, and in people's homes fans were on constantly, trying to stem the tide of gas. Graciously donated by Wayne Enterprises, massive fans adorned the major streets of Gotham. They had been used to defend against Scarecrow's gas before, and it was the same idea.

"Joker's outdone himself," Batgirl said. "He's coordinating and order attacks on the anti-gas fans." She was looking inside a filing cabinet. The Batfamily had held up inside an office of the GCPD building, scanned for listening devices. Gordon had granted them the use of the facility – it was not yet safe enough go outside. Visibility was poor and, although their cowls let them see, one wrong move on the part of the breathing apparatus... It wouldn't be pretty.

Batman nodded. _The clown thinks he's untouchable. This is all a game to him. _

"The clown wouldn't want to make things easy for us, would he?" a voice, easily recognised by Batman, from behind them said.

He was standing in the open doorway. Officers rushed around in the corridor behind him. They weren't wearing any apparatus, they had no need to – a purification system had been installed in the building long ago, to safeguard against attacks like this. _And still I didn't expect Joker to be leading the toxin charge. As if his laughing gas wasn't enough_. Dick Grayson's armour was black slashed with blue. He wore no cowl but a stripe across his eyes, making them pure white. There was a gas mask slung on his utility belt.

"Nightwing!" Barbara giggled and rushed over to embrace him. He held her tight and then closed the door behind them.

"How have you been Barb?"

"I've been better. How is it back home?"

"Bludhaven hasn't been that bad, business as usual for the most part."

"I hope inactivity hasn't made you lazy and unskilled," Batman said as he approached them.

Releasing Barbara he chuckled. "Not at all, big guy. I can only hope age hasn't dulled yours."

"It's me we are talking about," Batman chuckled as he shook the hand of his adopted son. Bruce had always been cold with his adopted son, as if afraid something bad would befall him. When he took up the mantle of Bruce Wayne again, he and Dick Grayson were birds of a feather. Well, Nightwing was no bird. There was a time when once he had been a Robin, but he had moved past that. For now, there was no Robin. _And there will not be again._

Nightwing strode over to the window. The gas pressed thick against the double-glazing, making it difficult to see. Shadows and skeletal shapes in the distance; skyscrapers against a backdrop of yellow.

"Joker's held up in Amusement Mile," Batman said. "The clown likes the place." Once, Joker had told Batman he enjoyed it because it was a prime, seaside location.

"You want to tackle him head on?"

"It's the quickest way to put an end to his madness. " Barbara said. She seemed tired and weary. "I don't want anymore death. Enough is enough. Too many have died already. Bruce and I have scouted out, the gas is too thick around whatever is producing them. Gas masks won't work."

"But Joker is insane, not suicidal," Batman replied in his pensive tone. "He'll have manufactured a cure against it for his own use. No doubt he and Harley are immune to the damn thing."

"Your saying Lucius can't make one?"

"He's been trying," Barbara told him, "but the molecules are complex and needs a specific chemical to neutralise it. We aren't sure –"

A hard knock at the door. "Yes?" Batman asked.

"It's Gordon," a gruff voice replied.

"Come in," Batman said, though the Commissioner was already half way through entering the room by then. Batman liked Gordon: he was a rare thing to find in Gotham – a good cop, a good person. He had supported Batman since he had made his first appearance in Gotham, all those years ago. He remembered Gordon's fresh face from then: flat with a thin moustache, his eyes seemed hard but not unkind. Now his moustache was thick and bushy, he wore glasses that only served to amplify the wrinkles. It was his hair that had changed most of all – once it had been brown, now it was whiter than Bruce's perfect teeth.

"Thanks," he said as he closed the door behind him.

"Nightwing," Gordon said, inclining his head. "It's nice to see you, unfortunate about the circumstances. I'm afraid there has been a development," he said, turning to Batman.

"What kind of development?" Batgirl asked. It seemed to Batman that, although Batman was the de facto leader of the family, Batgirl still yearned for some acknowledgement of her presence. She was able and skilled, but sometimes overlooked as a lesser member. _Nothing that can be done about that._

"It's Freeze. He's attacked a laboratorial subsidiary of Wayne Enterprises, searching for some damn crystal. Evidence seems to suggest that his suit has failed." _Lucius is in danger._

"I hope his gun has too," Nightwing added.

"I see," Batman replied, "One of us will have to deal with it."

"I'll deal with the snowman," Batgirl offered, "you two can deal with Joker."

"Look at that!" Nightwing cheered, nudging his mentor with his elbow. "Bonding time!"

"That was the idea," Batgirl said. "Now you can deal with him. I've suffered the quiet brooding for a while. Now it's your turn."

"Ah crap. I forgot about the brooding."

"Any other developments?" Batman asked, ignoring Batgirl and Nightwing's friendly banter at his expense.

"Mad Hatter's dead. The toxin. We found his body down by the pier. _Most_ of the super criminals have gone underground, but some are still skulking around. Ivy was seen in the streets with the gas. She's immune."

Batman nodded. _Joker would be delighted to hear he'd killed that lunatic_. "She's immune to Scarecrow's gas itself too. She won't be of any use to us. Come on. We need to move."

Police officers were rushing up and down the corridors of the building still, answering panicked calls from friends, family.

Batman noticed Gordon looking at Batgirl suspiciously as he went the opposite way from them. Behind those thick glasses his eyes were narrowed, his face a pondering one.

_Still quite the detective, _Batman noted. _Age hasn't dulled you, commissioner. _But in the end Gordon shook his head and headed off.

At the top of a high set of stairs that seemed to go on forever was to the door to the room. The small section the door was cramped. It was surrounded by Anti fear cloud fans, each of them spinning at full capacity at the closed door. Putting on their gas masks the three left the safety of the GCPD and into the choking air of Gotham City.

"I'd best get going," Batgirl said as she walked across the roof with the others. "If Freeze kills Lucius, we'll all screwed."

"I think we're all screwed anyway, Batgirl, wouldn't you say?" a voice asked. Batman adjusted his cowl. _This is the last thing I need._

Seated on the giant flood light was the assassin Deathstroke. "Took me ages to find you," he grunted as he jumped off the Batsignal. "Starting to wonder if it was really worth the trek," he added, looking at Robin and leaping from the giant light.

"Slade!" Nightwing hissed. His hand snapped to his belt, throwing a Batarang before Slade's feet had reached the ground.

Slade's entire torso bent backwards, the Batarang striking the Batsignal with a spark and a scream from the metal. "I'm really not in the mood," he said, seeming bored.

"What do you want Slade?" Batman demanded. If he was trying to fulfil a hit, his tactics had changed. _It's not like Slade to challenge a hit directly, much less one of us at all._ Since Lex's death, Deathstroke had slunk away back into a hole. The Metropolis police were searching for him; some people blamed him for Lex's death. Neither the world nor the underworld were happy with the assassin.

"He wants to put a bullet in us!" Nightwing growled, drawing his eskrima batons.

"No," Batman said, striding forward. "It's something else."

"Excellently deduced, Batbrain," Slade said with mock awe.

"Cut to the chase damn it, what do you want me for?" Nightwing demanded to know. _It makes sense that Nightwing would assume that he's here for him. _There was nothing but hate between Nightwing and the assassin. For a long time, Deathstroke had seemed the archenemy of the Titans. The Titans had gone their own ways since, but the enmity still hung in the air like a bad smell.

"Don't flatter yourself, _boy_," Slade spat. "I'm not hear for you, you're barely worth my time – but _you_," he pointed at Batman. "It's you I want to talk to."

"About what?" Batman asked impatiently. Just looking at Slade set Batman on edge. Slade had tried his hand at killing Batman for a long time. Six times he had tried, and six times he had failed. _You're not a man. You're garbage. _

"About this," Slade said as he removed something from his belt and tossed it at Batman's feet.

Batman knelt down and picked it up, inspecting the collar. It seemed to be made of a strange sort of silver. Batman hadn't seen the metal before, and it didn't feel earthly to him. _In a way, it reminds me of..._

"What is this?" Batman asked, "Some kind of belt?" _It'd fit around Batgirl's waist, at least_.

"It's a collar," Deathstroke answered. "Once upon a time it was slung around that behemoth's neck."

Batman's eyes widened. _A control collar? The technology would have to be Kryptonian. Yes, it must be._

"Ugly was taking orders from some guy. Brainiac," Slade added in an off-hand way. "Lex told me I had to warn you this guy, but looks like he's already rolled out the red carpet for himself. I assume the situation in Metropolis has something to do with him. So the news is saying, anyway."

Until now it had been speculation that Brainiac was behind the attack: his ships were used, it was known, but they could have been hijacked. _Now we have confirmation._

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?! We could have _prepared_ for this," Batgirl snapped.

"Sorry, toots, but you don't exactly got a hotline."

"Why to me?" Batman asked.

Slade sighed, as if explaining himself had exerted a mental toll. "The entire Justice League are in Metropolis, the same place where I'm being hounded after by every other person in the damn city. _You _were here in Gotham the whole time your buddies were helping rebuild the city, so I came here to tell you. How privileged you must feel."

"I'm flattered," Batman replied in a dead pan tone.

"Now you've said your piece, get out of here before I make you," Nightwing snapped.

In a glimmer of steel Deathstroke had his sword in hand. "I'm getting tired of you, boy," Slade said coldly.

"That's enough!" Batman ordered. "We have enough on our hands without having to deal with _him_!"

"Glad to know I can challenge you, Batman," Slade chuckled, sheathing his sword across his back. Batman clenched his jaw. _Don't push me Slade. Not today. _"Anyway," Slade sighed as he looked across Gotham, "you're right about having a lot to deal with. How's about I lend a hand?"

"_You_?" Batgirl asked incredulously. "_You? _Help us?"

"Go fuck yourself," Nightwing added.

"The alien bastard Brainiac and his attack dog left my reputation in ruin. If I help you clean up this hell, then maybe I can start piecing it back together again. Besides, screwing up his invasion sounds like adequate revenge for screwing with me."

"I'm not interested in your vendettas, Slade," Batman told him bluntly, though he was aware of the irony in there somewhere.

"I'm not _charging_ you. So you either let me help, or I do my own thing."

"And by own thing you mean-?" Nightwing began to asked.

"Hunt down the clown myself and make him a head shorter," Slade replied as he drew his sword again and ran his fingers lightly down the edge. "The Joker is just a mad dog, and mad dogs need to be put down."

"No." Batman said firmly.

"I don't see why your complaining," Slade sighed. "If you take me along I can help you put a stop to this." He gestured at the toxic clouds. "If you don't take me I try finding Joker myself. If I do either he dies or I do, my point being that there will be one less thorn in your side." Slade then tossed the sword into the air before catching it deftly by the tip of the blade with only two fingers. "Or you go for option three in which you and your posse attack me. If that happens I might land a lucky hit and kill one of you. You beat me, but by wasting your time you let innocent people die in this fog. So... what's it going to be?"

_Gotham is strangling itself in fear. I don't have time for this. If my death at any point would profit him he'd slit my throat. He might even try it for good measure anyway. I need that collar, and with everybody occupied I can't pass up aid, even from a mercenary. This way I can keep an eye on him._

"You follow my orders. You do things my way, do you understand? No guns. No killing. No –"

"Fun?" Slade added, as if a curious child.

Batman didn't reply, he only stared the assassin down. Both stood only a few feet apart; one of them holding a sword, the other a deep set frown.

Eager to diffuse the tension Batgirl asked, "So what are you going to do, Batman?"

"I need to scout out Amusement Mile," he replied before adding to Slade, "You're coming with me."

"Sounds good," Slade said before jerking a thumb towards the Nightwing. "I know doll face is going to see this Lucius guy but what about Teenage Angst over there?"

"He'll be going with Batgirl." he said simply.

"No!" Nightwing snapped. "I'm not leaving you alone with him!"

"I can handle a gun for hire, Nightwing," Batman assured him in a firm and final tone.

Dick looked enraged. "This isn't fair, he's a fucking –"

All eyes turned to the sky. Flying above the toxic clouds was a man in yellow. Over his body seemed to be some kind of radiating yellow light. For a time he merely surveyed the city, looking down on all the chaos. "Now who is that?" Slade asked as he unslung his rifle and gazed down its scope. There was a thrum that came from him, deep and resonant. The city could hear it, Batman had no doubt. All eyes on this man.

Batman activated the cowl's binocular vision mode to get a better look. The man was lanky with a head of smoothed down black hair and a thin moustache. Yet his most defining features were his skin, blood red, and the large emblem emblazoned on his chest. It was a face and a symbol Batman knew. "Sinestro." Batman growled.

"Sin what?" Slade inquired, completely at a loss.

"He's the leader of the Sinestro Corps," Batman said. "He uses a power ring to make constructs."

"Never knew your Lantern friend changed his colour scheme."

"Different Corp." Batgirl explained. "Green is the colour of willpower. Yellow is the power of fear. It's what he uses to power his constructs."

"Fear has a yellow hu?" Slade inspected the yellow gauntlet of his armour. "I didn't know I could like my armour more."

"Shut up," Nightwing growled.

Sinestro raised his fist into the air, and yellow begin to spill from it. All around the city of Gotham a massive transparent yellow bubble enveloped the city with Sinestro trapped inside as well. "What is he doing?" Nightwing gasped as the bubble sealed itself with a resounding rumble.

"You said he used fear as power, right?" Slade asked. With a shrug he added, "Seems to me like he just found a fear factory."

"The gas," Batman muttered. "Scarecrows toxin is spreading fear while its Joker happy gas poisons the victims."

"Is there a Lantern for everything? Is there one for laughing? The Giggle Corps. _That_ I could get into."

Annoyed at Slade's idea of excellent comedic timing Batman continued, "The fear must have been like a homing beckon drawing him here. And I think it's safe to assume he wants the Joker to keep poisoning the city so he can keep drawing power from the people of Gotham."

"Great, we have to deal with him too?" Batgirl asked as Sinestro sped away into Gotham.

"Not us," Batman muttered. He activated the communicator in his cowl. "Patch me through to Green Lantern," he ordered to the Batcomputer. _Sinestro is not my villain. This is John's duty. He can defeat Sinestro._

The line was silent before Green Lantern picked up. "Batman, what is it-" Lantern sounded like he was struggling to carry a heavy load, "- cause I'm a little busy here right now!"

"I've just spotted Sinestro in Gotham," Batman explained quickly, "he's trapped the hybrid fear clouds in Gotham so he can draw on the people's fear. I need you to deal with him."

Again the line was silent. "You're sure?" Lantern asked. _I don't often request aid from the other members. He'll worry._

"Positive."

"I'm going to Oa. I will need help from this and my sector partner is occupied."

With a shake of his head Batman sighed. "Just hurry," he said, and hung up.

"Well, what do we do know?" Nightwing asked with a helpless shrug.

"I need to go to Lucius and give him the control collar," Batman said like he was a General planning a war. "Batgirl will come with me to Wayne Enterprises to speak to him. Meanwhile you two scout out Amusement Mile."

"Us!?" Nightwing said with full blown indignation.

"Keep talking like that kid," Slade said drolly, "and I may just die of a broken heart."

"Yes, you two." Batman said resolutely. "This is too big for your petty argument. Stow the insults and work together. If you can't then get out of here because I'll have no need for either of you." _I can't take Deathstroke with me to Lucius. He's too close a link to my identity, but I need to speak to him about the collar._

Nightwing knew Batman was right, but Bruce watched regardless as he tried to swallow it down. "Fine, come on then, but you _listen_ to _me._ "

"Just hang with me, kid," Deathstroke said as he walked across the roof with Nightwing. Bruce could still hear them as they walked off. "Who knows? You might even learn a thing or two."


	9. GREEN LANTERN I

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Here we go with a chapter _I've_ written, as opposed to Gavin. It's heavy in lore and backstory. It was fun to write, hope it's fun to read. It'll require some effort from your imagination, I think. I've used John Stewart as the Lantern, as you've always got a choice, but I prefer him mostly because of his backstory, which I hint at (though you can easily find out more about it online). Looking forward to hearing what you think about it! Leave comments and opinions in reviews, and don't forget to follow and favourite if you like it, let me know what we're doing is worthwhile :3

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**GREEN LANTERN**

John was no stranger to Oa, the ancient homeworld of the Guardians, the leaders of the Green Lantern Corps, and yet still it set him on edge. _Every species in the known universe_, he thought, _and still I feel alone_. He remembered being called by the Guardians for the first time; he had been stunned by the beauty of the immense cityscape, but now it seemed hollow and dark, and made him feel low. _I only come here when black death knocks on Earth's door. _The world seemed much like imaginings of Earth in one hundred, two hundred years, but with more green – the colour was laced into the very being of the planet. On the approach one could see great pillars of green light erupting from the planet, as if it were a giant emerald floating in space.

When he had arrived for the first time on the planet and presented before the Guardians in costume for the first time, John had been overwhelmed. Green Lantern was famous, but now he knew his name – Hal Jordan. Jordan had been excluded from the Corps temporarily, and a substitute was needed. To this day, Jordan had not resurfaced and he continued to serve as the superhero known as Green Lantern. There was more to defend in his sector than Earth, of course, but he did use Earth and Watchtower as an unofficial base of operations. All Green Lanterns hold a silent bias for their own homeworld. From Earth, Oa was too long a flight. The method of transport to Oa was something that continued to amaze John – he placed his ring inside his own green lantern, and his mind was transported to the planet. No more than an avatar, what the Guardians called a _green-self_, but it felt as though he had come, with all his facilities, but he felt fresher – more alive. His body did not drag him down with hunger or fatigue.

John was greeted at the Gates of Oa by G'nort. He was a humanoid dog that stood at roughly the same height as John, with light brown fur and long canines. He spoke with a characteristically unusual high voice. "Hello, John of Sector 2814," he said. "What brings you to Oa?"

"I must speak with Guy Gardner," John said.

The dog seemed to raise an eyebrow, though John couldn't be sure he did; fur made such things difficult. "Gardner is in emerald meditation," G'nort said. "I don't think… I'm not sure he would want to be disturbed. He _shouldn't_ be disturbed."

G'nort had good intentions, but he was a blundering member of the Lantern Corps. He wondered why the Guardians had given him a ring; he was generally inept, and thus bound to administrative duties on Oa. The role of the Oa Honour Guard was to protect the Guardians, but they were immense beings of incredible power. The creators of the power rings needed no assistance. Long ago, a Guardian had fought against the supervillain alternate of Superman, Superman-Prime, and staggered him badly. The alternate had been forced into hiding and retreated to the dark corners of the universe. Our Superman had pursued him, searching for months and had not found him. _I doubt we will see Prime again_, he thought.

"It's important, G'nort. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't," he said. G'nort had no real authority to overrule John's wishes; the Lanterns were largely self-governing, but he would endure for now, but anymore and he would push on. In a past life, John had a short-fuse and a quick fist when it came to authority figures who enjoyed the submission of others; that trait continued to today, though he tried hard to supress it.

"Yes. Okay. Alright. Yes. Okay. Follow me, John of Sector 2418."

G'nort lifted off the ground, his power ringing glowing, and John followed. He wore the same green and black as all Lanterns did, though slightly larger to fit his bulging physique. John wondered if his costume on his fur made him uncomfortable. The Guardians had engineered the material they were made of, and John hardly felt his on – it felt sometimes as though he wore no clothes at all. There was no fabric, to pinch was to feel them bounce back like a sort of gel that clung to his form. Though he had little to be ashamed of, John still felt sensitive about being the odd one out of the League – sure, Superman was an alien, but he was loved by the people of Earth. Diana had been an outsider once too, but it had not escaped John's notice that she was somewhat linked with Bruce. Even Flash had found an ally in Green Arrow. _You would think the greens would stick together, but Arrow's soul seems darker than my skin at times._

They did not fly for long, through the huge streets – cars did not exist on Oa, instead there were air-cars and ships. The boulevards, therefore, were larger – they stretched across, almost three times the size of Metropolis' streets. Bridges arced across the street, from building to building. Somewhat narrow and made of brown stone, but no citizen had ever fallen from the bridge and died, nor even injured. An invisible layer of light underneath the bridges saw to that.

They had taken John on a longer route to the Corps headquarters the first time instead of the direct route through the city – he expected they did it too all Lanterns. _Dazzle them, and they're far less likely to say no_. Not that anybody ever had. John had been hesitant at first, but he had seen it as an honour to be asked. John was no stranger to military duty. To this day he still did not know why they had selected him. He had done no great deeds, no more than his friends – still, he was selected about them to become one of the two defenders of Sector 2814. Green Lantern was reminded of Lex Luthor and the other civilians who had died during Doomsday's attack. He would not make a mistake like that again – the Gotham situation would be dealt with swiftly, but he could not do it alone.

"We are here," said G'nort as they landed on the floor in front of a giant building made of stone. Engraved deep in the brown stone were green crystals that seemed to shine in the darkness. The city always seemed dark, lit only by the natural glow of the city and the stars above that seemed to fill the sky.

"What are those crystals?" John had asked on his first trip to the building, many years ago.

"Rocks from a long-dead world," Thaal Sinestro had said. Back then he had worn the garb of the Green Lanterns, as John did now. _Times have changed._ John wondered if Hal Jordan had known Sinestro before he had renounced will for fear.

"Why?"

"I don't know," he had shrugged.

"Do you know where to go?" G'nort asked, interrupting John's stupor, his mouth still vaguely hung open when he spoke, his tongue panting. _I wonder how he would react if I asked him if he wanted a treat_. John smiled. "Why is laughing?" asked G'nort.

"I know where I'm going," John said dismissively. "I can find my way from here."

G'nort nodded. He seemed to adjust his ring, and a green barrier of light appeared at the entrance to the large building, over the glass doors. There was nobody around the building, but even still the clamour of people could be heard. Buildings in Oa floated almost in the sky, as the ground below was barren and uninhabitable. John nodded and thanked G'nort for his help, and made his way to the entrance.

John did not enjoy passing through the emerald barrier; true, its purpose was to detect other stands of invasive light – yellow, red, blue, black and the others – and so it would be uncomfortable to any passer. Long ago, an undercover member of the Red Lantern Corps had found a way to pass by the emerald barrier. Red had fought green and many were lost on both sides; the Guardians had since intensified security on the barrier. As a result, one was only advised to pass through the barrier if they had little other choice. John knew he would feel the nausea in the days to come. _This is as necessary as it is important_, he thought. It felt like a tightening in the chest, a static charge on the top of your skin, like water in your ear. The sensation made John shiver after he had passed through. The glass doors parted as he passed the barrier, and gave way to a vast, cavernous room.

There were chandeliers of the same green crystals inside, some kind of black metal holding the structure together. There was a futuristic glow to the furnished room; steel coated almost every surface – it made up the doors, the walls, and yet furniture was made of wood. There was something of every culture inside the building. _Sinestro once told me that every sentient species has, at one point in the history, had a Lantern._ He wondered if there had been a Lantern in the history of Krypton. Superman had never tried on Lantern's ring, of course – Lanterns were not permitted to share their ring with others except in dire circumstances. John did not feel enough curiosity to merit taking off his ring. It pained him enough to take time off and return to his normal life. With no family and little friends who cared enough to check on him even once every six months, he rarely needed to do so anyway.

At a brisk pace he walked down the main hall. It was empty save for a few bastions of the Lantern force left on Oa at all times; they acknowledged his presence with a nod, no more, no less. Between Lanterns sharing a sector together, there was a bond – a camaraderie forged between the rings, but there was nothing between others. _Lanterns treat each other like presidents of countries treat each other – a forced smile there, an obligatory handshake there_. John knew the value of protocol, however; it kept people grounded. If one Lantern were to break away and join one of the other Lantern Corps, as Sinestro had done when he acquired the yellow power ring. Dozens had flocked to his side, and the war of light had commenced.

He murmured hellos to people he passed, though he recognised less people than he spoke to – Ch'p, Trais, Salaak. _They have no liking for me, their loyalty to the Lanterns of Sector 2814 died when Hal Jordan was banished from the force._ The building seemed even larger on the inside, though he knew that wasn't the case. The buildings of Oa had corridors built to similar specifications to their roads: wide walls and high ceilings. It was cold there, but in his costume he rarely had to worry about temperatures – one of his core abilities as a Lantern was the ability to survive in any climate. He didn't even need to breathe, if he didn't need to – still, he did. It made him feel human, and alive.

It took some time before he reached the room he knew to be Gardner's; he knocked lightly on the door, and it opened almost instantly to reveal the legend himself. Guy Gardner wore a dark green robe over his costume; his eyes were bagged and his formerly light blonde hair had receded and greyed. _He looks terrible_, he thought. _Let's hope he's still even half the Lantern he once was_. He did not seem surprised to see him.

John smiled weakly. "Can I come in?"

"Why are you here, Stewart?"

"I want to come in."

He rolled his eyes and turned, leaving the door ajar as he walked away. "Welcome, distinguished guest," he muttered.

His small room was cluttered; a mattress was bare and scraps of uneaten food lay around the room. The reek of piss, drink and sweat was thick in the air, and John wanted to leave immediately, but he couldn't. He closed the door.

Gardner was a human, one of three human Lanterns. Once, long ago, he had been assigned to protect Earth and its constituents, but that time had passed. Gardner found his way into the Phantom Zone, a prison used for Kryptonian criminals, and he had been ripped apart by the spirits within. Stewart had heard it from Gardner himself after he had come out, a shallow, gaunt man with deep hollows for eyes; he had been tortured for the amusement of a warlord named Zod. John had never met 'the general', but he had it on the authority of Superman that he was not a kind man.

Regardless the man was a legend in the Lantern Corps; people treated him with respect. The Guardians had decommissioned him but valued his existence, and so they kept him here on Oa, barred from returning to Earth.

"It stinks in here, Lantern," John said.

"I have a flatulent maid," he said and lay down on his mattress. It was brown and crusted in areas; John wondered how long he'd been here. _Two years, maybe three? _"I would fire her but I'm doing research for a novel. _The Flatulent Maid_. It'll be a hit. Tell me how it sells on Earth, will you?"

_I cannot joke with him now. The man needs to get a grip and come with me._ "I need your help," John said. "This is important."

"I can't. Too busy with my writing," he said. The man was lazy and bored, and it seemed he had grown comfortable in his chains. Adapted to an essential surrender. "Do you want me to do your taxes? I have a lot of time and I miss the planet but I'm sure as hell not doing your taxes. Do you even have a house?"

"A problem has arisen –"

"You _don't_ have a house, do you? I've heard about your fancy space-station. Say, what do the Guardians say about you imagining money and having it appear with your ring? They're both green –"

John lifted his hand and concentrated, a hammer of light forming in the air beside him. Before Gardner's eyes had the ability to even widen, he slammed him hard with it, pushing him against the wall. "Listen, you washed-up son of a bitch," he said. "My people are in danger. I need your help. Stop making quips. I know your body is still on Earth somewhere, and you can get back into it if you just leave your green-self."

The hammer stumbled and dissolved when a sledgehammer of light bludgeoned it. _Now he's listening_, John thought. He wondered when the last time he used his ring for something other than floating drink and chips across the room.

He fell down back onto the mattress, vodka sweat dripping from his brow. "You know I'd love to forsake the green planet for the blue marble, but –"

"I will speak to the Guardians," John said. "They will hear me out, they always do."

"You think I haven't tried to speak to the Guardians? They won't even _see_ you, I'd bet. Things have changed with the blue boys," he said. "Three feet tall with a temper." He wiped the sweat from his brow. "Sayd has been exiled, I'm sure you heard about the fall of Krona. These emotionless Guardians have become inflamed with as must feeling as you and I. They won't let me leave."

"I will address them. I am a hero of the War of Light, survivor of the Red Purge. They will listen to me."

"And where is your partner – Kyle Rayner, where is he in all this?"

All Lanterns had the innate knowledge of the systems and their protectors – even in his terrible state, Gardner knew the constituent planets of all 3600 systems, and the names of the two green sentinels assigned to each.

"He has run into a situation on Scylla. He cannot help me."

"They _will not listen_," he said, rising to his feet. His eyes were a fierce green, as were all the Lanterns with eyes. The colour bonded to each Lantern changed their eyes; it was a defence configuration more than anything, another safeguard against the other colours.

There was a knock on the door. Gardner looked angry and angrily walked to it, and swung it open. "What?" he said. Though John could not see him, he knew his face had dropped.

At the door was one of the Emerald Guard; those Lanterns who had ascended their purpose as one of the few ranks and become protectors of the Guardians, their servants. They rarely left their quarters and spent almost all their time with their own Guardian, and yet one stood before them.

"John of Sector 2814," it said. It was humanoid with green skin that seemed to move. It wore green robes and was hooded, streaks of black and a broach holding it together. "You have been summoned by Master Guardian Scar. Follow me."


	10. SUPERMAN I

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **It's been a while! Sorry for the delay. Been working so hard on my other fic, _The Last of Them_, that I've been neglecting this one a little. Updates will be more regular now. Hope you like this chapter, written by Gavin! As always, read and review and blah blah!

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**SUPERMAN**

_Ash and death is all that remains of my world. _Once, crystalline spires had reached up towards the dying red sun, reflecting light out across the desert plains of the planet. Clark Kent had seen the visions from his father Jor-El. They had shattered long ago, and only broken rock remained. Lumps that made loops around the sun. Being in its very presence made Clark feel drained, but he had soaked in the rays of the yellow sun, and still felt its power. It filled him with the want to soar, to fly, but he did not. Superman's boots were planted firmly on blackened stone.

Here was the only place Superman could truly be alone. The Fortress of Solitude saw visitors from the League more and more often these days, Diana seemed to call it a second home. It bothered Clark, but he need not say anything to her. Resentment outlasted friendship within the group, though that was left unsaid. Bruce seldom entered the Fortress unless the need was dire: he could not fly, of course. Once, when then League was first formed, Clark had wondered if Bruce envied the powers of his allies. It made no matter. Clark Kent had the powers of a god, but he did not dwell on it. His need for literal isolation ran in parallel up with a very real sense of loneliness he held in his heart, and his powers only amplified that feeling. He had been raised knowing he was different. On that farm he had been taught the value of kindness and justice, but always with uncertainty.

He was not truly alone, of course. Clark's title as the last son of Krypton was more symbolic than anything. Others had survived his planet's destruction: his cousin, Lara, who masqueraded as Supergirl; his nemesis the General Zod; and Krypto, his pet dog. Of the three, Krypto was his most constant companion. He had the powers of any Kryptonian, but his senses of hearing and smell were far more acute than Superman's were. His other abilities were proportional to his size and species, far less significant. _Though,_ Clark supposed, _any dog with powers is significant._

Lara spent months at a time exploring the universe. She had visited Oa, the homeworld of the Green Lantern Corp and become a representative of Earth. She had treated with aliens, visited the remnants of Apokalips, seen the border of the universe where the Phantom Zone existed physically, though on another plane. Inside the Phantom Zone, cold winds raged. Zod was inside there too, trapped there with the bulk of his army. Clark had concealed the phantom mirror, the only true exit to the Zone, far in deep space. It would not be found by humans accidentally. He was not alone in terms of his species, though still he was in mentality. Superman had preferred to work alone. The mantle of the unofficial leader of the Justice League had made Clark more uncomfortable with his position; still, his late father Jonathan Kent had once said to him that power was better entrusted to those who did not desire it.

His earth mother Martha still lived too, on the very farm where he had been raised. She kept him on the straight path, the narrow path to goodness. She reminded him what he was raised to believe in and become - a shoulder for mankind to rest on. They loved him, and yet they did not know him. Even his closest friend Bruce Wayne did not truly know him; they often did not see eye-to-eye, and their relationship was more a respect than a true friendship. Bruce brooded and Superman reflected; they were different sides of a coin. Superman's mask was Clark Kent; his glasses were his disguise. Batman's disguise was his cowl, hiding his identity. Sometimes Clark wondered if Superman or Clark Kent was his true identity. _The man of steel, the man of tomorrow. Clark Kent, Superman, Kal-El. So many names. So many identities to keep._

His mind jumped to her… _Lois_, he thought as the sun flared, giant flames pluming in and out, serpents of fire snaking in and out of the giant red sphere. _I have Lois_. _She knows who I am_, he thought. She had kept him on the right path when he felt lost, she reminded him the importance of being human – and she knew who she was too. Even when they had married, she had kept her own name. "Lois Lane-Kent," he had offered over breakfast one day.

She raised an eyebrow. "Listen, boy scout, I ain't changing my name. Lois Lane is the name people see on the byline, and I am sticking with that. How about _you_ change your name?"

But even Lois had her limits. All people had their limits. Clark wondered what his were. Sometimes it felt like the only true company the man of steel really had was that of his foes. Once, long ago, Lex Luthor had once said to him, "A man is defined by his enemies." But if we can't treat our enemies fairly, we're no better than them... and he had failed to save Lex. Clark struggled with that, it was all he thought of. He couldn't understand the appearance of Doomsday, there was no indication or precedence for his arrival… it could only herald something worse – and it had led to Lex's death. Both men hated each other; Lex schemed against Superman since he had first appeared in Metropolis. Clark had never considered the idea that perhaps Lex needed saving. _I was too late. I was too slow._

For a time he simply hung in orbit around the dying red sun. It wasn't just the death of Lex that bothered him; it was all the lives that he couldn't save. Jonathan Kent had died when he was very young, before the days of Superman, when Clark Kent was only Clark Kent. Clark could run faster than a speeding bullet, leap tall buildings in a single bound, but he couldn't save his father from the heart attack that claimed his life. It was not only Jonathan Kent's death that bothered him but the deaths of the citizens of Metropolis during Doomsday's attack. Even when he and Diana arrived to stop him many people still died. It was unavoidable yet it still made his heart ache. He thought of his mother when his dad died. _All of the families now know the loss I have felt_, he thought. _I'm just tired. Tired of fighting a battle that I cannot win._

Clark knew that he was destined to help the people of earth find their way into the light, to battle injustice for the good of others, yet he was still human. It was his greatest weakness, and it was his greatest strength. How could he carry on? It seemed like a hopeless conquest driven by vanity. He held the world upon his immense shoulders, he shouldered their burden, he carried them when they stumbled – but he could feel his strength fading. _I am lost…_

Then out of the silent void a high pitched ping resonated, Clark's super hearing piking it up easily in the vacuum. A furrow formed on his brow. This system wasn't inhabited any more, no one had been here aside from Clark. It was coming from the other side of the sun if Clark were to guess. Taking flight he sped around the burning sphere.

Clark found nothing out of the ordinary when he arrived, just more floating rocks tumbling lazily in the sun's gravitational pull, but the sound persisted nevertheless. He focused his hearing and searched for the noise's origin. Clark couldn't help but fell a trap awaited him around the next asteroid. Clark flew around it, braced for trouble, and then he found the source of the sound. It was a derelict ship of some kind, drifting battered and broken amidst the ruins of Krypton. It reminded Clark of the ship that had delivered him to earth, except it much larger. He flew towards and, tentatively, he ran his hand across its cold metal hull. His fingers found a symbol along its side, the same symbol displayed proudly on his chest. The House of El.

Clark began to search for an entrance point, unwilling to do more damage to the vessel than was necessary. It didn't take long for him to discover a gaping hole large enough for him to fly through on its roof. Just as his body entered the ship, he felt the sensation of gravity try to pull him to the floor, and the cold press of the vacuum disappear. The inside of the ship had life systems that had survived, they roped him down to the surface. Clark could override gravity's force easily, but he succumbed to it. He sensed that he had entered some control centre of some sort, no doubt used to pilot the ship. Jor-El told me that the Kryptonians didn't have many ships and that what little they did have were lost along with the other Kryptonian colonies. Did this ship belong to him? Did it return from one of the lost colonies only to be smashed by what remained of Krypton? Or was someone waiting for it to return with the intent to destroy it? With his feet firmly on the ground Clark looked over the complicated controls. Even if he knew how to operate them the ship had no energy left to fly anyway. He was alone in the control room and most likely the ship itself.

Because of the lack of power Clark had to pry open the circular door at the back of the room. The metal warped and bent under the force of his fingers with the ease of crinkling paper. The room beyond was rounded with hexagonal shapes etched into the walls. Clark descended a small sat of stairs to reach the centre of the room. _What is this place? _Clark pondered as he turned around, inspecting every inch of the room. There was no other doors or entrances other than the control room, so what was the point of the ship? Clark notice something then; an imperfection on the otherwise flawless walls. One of the hexagonal sections that made the wall had been removed; the tile itself hanging from the hole like it was on a hinge. Clark was cautious about inspecting what was inside the opening as Kryptonian technology was one of the few things that could hurt him. But there was nothing interesting or threatening inside, just some kind of cylinder ringed with blue metal coils. A tiny safety warning in Kryptonian was on the back of the tile. Kryptonian reading came natural to Clark; the knowledge of the language had been imbued in him long ago by a crystal containing Jor-El's knowledge. The warning said that the power cell conducted heat at very high temperatures, advising that it shouldn't be touched. _Heat__?_ he wondered._ I think I've got something for that. _A heat began to nudge at the back of Clark's eyes, his dark pupils turning white. In seconds scorching hot red beams of light erupted from his eyes, striking the coils and causing them to glow. The room began to hum with building energy, the air slowly heating up. Satisfied that the ship was powered enough Clark closed his eyes causing the heat vision to stop abruptly. When he opened his eyes again his irises were turning from red back into blue and his pupil was inky black once more. The tile snapped back into place with a clack.

"Kal El," a voice said in a hushed tone.

In alarm Clark spun around to find himself confronted by two people, a man and a woman. An older gentleman with receding white hair, with eyes the colour of steel, though he still seemed fit and healthy, as if trained in the military, an old general. The woman was slim and of similar age, with long wavy blond hair, blue eyes and kind smile. _Those are my eyes. _

"Hello, Kal," his mother whispered, her voice brimming with pride. "My wonderful, wonderful boy."


	11. AQUAMAN I

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **At last, the chapter you've all stuck around this far for... AQUAMAN! The Justice League's greatest and most respected hero! I kid, of course, but this is an important chapter. It's pretty long, and I had a lot of fun writing it. It's really important, though it might not seem it at first, but when you get there... Things happen. I hope you like reading it.

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**AQUAMAN**

The burden of abandoning the Justice League lay heavy on Orin's mind. He had weighed the situation with his most knowledgeable advisors, and they had all reached the same, hard conclusion – that Atlantis must not be jeopardised. And yet now he found himself struggling with his decision. _They would aid me were my life in danger_, a part of him said. He knew it was true – the League would not have left him. And yet he had abandoned them. "I owe my allegiance to them," he said.

His queen, Mera, frowned and shook her head, red curls waving as if caught in wind. "You owe allegiance to no man," she reasoned. Taking his hand, she kneeled in front of the great throne of Atlantis where he sat. "You are King of Atlantis, protector of the waters of Earth, the guardian of the seas. They lost your friendship when they brought a monster into own home. Were that I was king, Orin, I would have mounted their heads upon tridents and hung them in the dining halls."

As his queen, she had the right to speak so boldly to him, to advise him when he was unsure, but Mera had a short-fuse and an explosive quality about her; none of his other counsellors would have been so vocal about the execution of some of the king's closest allies. _Never would I let Bruce or Diana's heads be mounted on tridents_, he thought. _And I doubt they'd let it happen either._ He was surprised that Diana had not tried to contact him, but if the information about the surface he had been accurate, he did not blame her. An attack was mounted the Justice League, and on Earth. _But what can I do for them?_

"Your Highness," began Remora, a lord of Atlantis for longer than Orin had been alive, long before he had claimed the trident throne. "My queen is correct, of course, but there is little you can do for the surface-dwellers. To throw yourself into this would be to draw Atlantis into a conflict that…" he hesitated.

"Speak your mind, my lord. I value your advice." _If value can be placed in things you do not enjoy._

"It's just… a conflict that –"

"They may not win," Mera interjected, and got to her feet. She turned, her hair swishing, and hurried down the marble steps. She stood beside Remora. When they stood side by side, Mera's fierce beauty and Remora's ancient age only seemed amplified. His skin, though still had the smoothness characteristic of an Atlantean, seemed stretched in some places, and seemed to sag in others. His hair had silvered and receded, though he still had a firm jawline and a physique that would be impressive to any man – not just to one of over one hundred. Atlanteans did not age as humans did; the lord seemed to just be emerging from a human's middle-agedness, practically unscathed.

"I summoned the council today not to ask if I could draw the kingdom of Atlantis into a bloody conflict, but to express myself. I confess, I am angry. Superman's unfortunate decision to violate my domain–"

" – could be construed as a declaration of _war_!" Mera cut in angrily, arms held up in protest. Orin raised a hand and she fell silent.

"Superman's decision to defile the water with that beast was a _valid, tactical decision_. Yes," he said, nodding at the shock on his wife's face. "You heard me. I am angry, but I can understand what he did, and why he did it. _That said_, I cannot authorise it. I see the tact in his decision but I will not support it. He has mocked me time and time again, I will no longer stand it. I am not the novelty item of the Justice League, I am the king of Atlantis. I am the lord of my domains and I will defend them. We will remain silent. We will not withdraw support from Earth, but we will say no more on the subject." _Here comes the rage_, he thought. "Until Earth's war is concluded we will take no further side in the battle. All Atlanteans are hereby confined to the city. I order that our teleports are decommissioned, and our ship's capabilities for long-distance travel is removed."

Mera's eyes widened, the white in them seemed to go on forever, stark and set deep in her pink face. "Orin, this news will not go down well. The merchants, the vagrants! You know I will stand by your side, as I always have, but the people –"

"If the people are loyal to me they will not revolt. Remora, what say you?" The king's gaze fell upon his most devoted servant; he felt Mera's eyes flicker away from him, and she looked to him too. The man's face betrayed very little, that much was sure. He had once been a fierce warrior, a member of Poseidon's Guard, the force sworn to protect the king. Though he could not see them, two Atlantean guards stood slightly behind the throne, alert with their pointed weapons at all times. As Remora had aged he had hung up his armour for a golden shawl, matted with green and blue, the colours of the city of the deep. Internal politics had become his world now. _These two are the only noble opinions in the city_, he knew. _The others are too quick, too brash to fight. Ours is the fury, the Atlantean way, but some tasks require a more deft hand._

"My queen, I believe the king speaks truly. Atlantis must exclude itself from the squabbles between the spacecrawlers and the surface dwellers. We must rise above by sinking away, that is what I believe," the old man was wise and his counsel was always valuable. If he had disagreed with the king's decision, he would have said, and it would have worked against Orin – the other members of the Trident Council that had been uninvited may have argued between themselves. _That would be the last thing I'd need. _

"Then it is settled."

Mera raised a hand to continue, "But Orin –"

"No, Mera. Enough. You did not want me to involve myself in their fighting, and I have not. I will not declare war upon them." _They are still my friends. _"What do you see happening if Earth falls, Mera? _Well_? I shall tell you – this alien, the Brainiac – he will slaughter every human on the planet, and then he will find us. He will fall upon Atlantis with his full might, and then we will not be saved. I will not risk it. You will say no more on the matter."

Mera became cold. She stared hotly at her king husband. "I see," she said, and turned to leave, her red hair spinning as she turned and began to walk.

"Mera," Orin said gently.

She stopped and turned, looking at him. There was loathing in her eyes, though she knew in time that it would come to pass. "I'm sorry, I forget my manners," she said, her voice soaked deep in sarcasm. "Permission to be dismissed, my kingly husband?"

"Permission granted, Mera," he began, and she left.

"If I may," Remora said, walking towards the giant throne on which Orin sat, "Queen Mera makes a valid point."

"You were wise to wait until she left to say so, my advisor."

He smiled a little. "I fear that an invasion may come to us, my lord. This alien, this Brainiac, he will know of us, will he not?"

"Yes, he will."

"From what I hear, this being is rich in intellect and knowledge. He craves information, raw data – yes?" Orin nodded. _I have confronted him before, with the League. He is not to be trifled with lightly. He dances a dangerous waltz, and one wrong foot… _"Ours is an immense history. The creation of Atlantis, the fall… the rebellions of Manta, you know the pieces."

"I agree, Remora," Orin said, "I had hoped nobody would share these feelings with me. It was my deepest hope that Brainiac would stay away from here."

"We cannot always get what we desire, my king."

"Keep the guard on alert, raise the army. Keep them awake. Their eyes must be open."

"Of course, my king. At once."

As Remora left the room, moving quickly for a man of his age, Orin sunk back onto the throne. It was not a comfortable chair. The story handed down was that the throne of Atlantis, sometimes called Poseidon's Chair, had been created at the instruction of the god of the seas, Poseidon, and had passed to the first king of Atlantis when Poseidon had disappeared. The existence of the gods depended entirely on mortal belief in them, and now few Atlanteans had a real faith in the old gods. Orin himself believed in no gods, he found it easier to have faith in those around him. _Though it makes it more difficult when they break that trust._

He sat in the chair, reflecting. He lifted his left hand and inspected it; at first it was solid, coated with the green of his costume, but then it began to shimmer and became transparent, looking like waves, ripples stirring. The glove had been given to him as a way to enhance his abilities, giving him the ability to change parts of his body into water, as well as some decent control over bodies of the stuff. The Justice League's members had teased him when he first received it, Flash being the instigator. _They teased me about needing a magical glove_, he thought, _but Bruce Wayne requires finely shaped boomerangs and grapples. I am a king._

He pushed it to the back of his mind, and lifted himself off the chair. It was the last thing he wanted to be focusing on – there were more important issues at hand. He walked behind the giant throne and looked out, giant glass windows looking out into the ocean. Colourful fish from all corners of the earth gathered here; Atlantis was a safe place, a place of warm waters and light, even in the depths of the ocean. A place of old magic. It was then he noticed there were slightly less today.

"Alta," he asked one of his guards, "where have the fish gone?"

"I do not know, my king."

Orin nodded. "Maybe they are searching for food," he mused quietly.

"Pardons, my king?"

"Nothing, Alta. Nothing." The woman was one of three female members of Poseidon's Guard, the other four male. The greatest fighters in Atlantis, they fought with spears – one sharp end, two sharp ends, but never three. Only the king had the right to a trident. Three was a deeply spiritual number to the Atlanteans; there had been three domains of Atlantis once, now there were only two. One had crumbled and shattered, truly broken, long ago, though before Orin was born.

When something dark was happening somewhere, Orin felt a deep sense of foreboding, and began to feel very hot. One of those times were now; he could feel sweat leaking from his forehead, and he wiped it away. The fringe of his longish blonde hair usually swept up, but it dripped over his eyes. He twined the hair in his fingers and slid it back up. _It is lucky I am not wearing the crown_, he thought. His costume was tight, but it was cool too. It let the air blow through, touching the skin below. He rarely removed it, and never in open court. _I am a king, _he thought, _and those of my kingdom must honour me, respect me._

From the other side of the room, Orin heard footsteps. He rounded the throne again, his guards taking up station at each side of the throne again. Remora entered, carrying a two-pronged spear. "Orin – it's the Deep Kingdom," he said, but he did not have to finish his sentence, because the King of Atlantis could feel his heart wrench as the second kingdom of Atlantis, called the Deep Kingdom or the Second Hold, shattered and broke. Some host tore it apart.

"No," Orin said. He looked behind the throne again, out in the water – all life had fled. The light that the magic of Atlantis had let through was unable to percolate the ocean deep enough to find Atlantis. _War has come to Atlantis._ He closed his eyes and he listened to the song of the waters. It was an angry song. Drums. Faster. Faster. _A call to arms. _"It is Brainiac. He will be here soon."

"My lord, great vessels on the surface – we detect them… above," he said, almost hysterical. Remora was an old warrior, but he would be no use now. His asset was his mind. Orin had warriors in their hundreds, brave and fearless Atlanteans, but strategists were in low demand.

"Where is Mera?"

"My king?" he asked, confused. "She is… elsewhere. In your quarters, I believe."

The order lay on Orin's tongue for several moments before he said it. Remora would understand, and he would not like it. "Send her to the surface."

"My king, I cannot condone the activation of the teleporters –"

"Your job is not to condone, your job is to advise. I may disregard your advice." Orin turned to the guards beside the throne. "You are to hurry to my quarters, fetch an aid on the way there. He is to activate the teleporters and send Mera to the surface, and then deactivate the teleporters as soon as can be done. If she struggles, use force. She will not be able to overpower you." They hesitated – the guard were not meant to leave the king's side, but they could not disobey him. "Go." They went, lifting their golden spears and hurrying off.

"Orin, this is _folly_. This alien could _exploit _the teleporters! You are _blind_!"

"Silence. Keep your tone in check. War has come to Atlantis, and I am the leader. I am the leader of this race of warriors. You are my subject. Do you understand? Hold your words, or be a tongue shorter."

Remora seemed livid. This old man was a problem, but not now. The King of Atlantis would die with his people, if it had to be that way, but the kingdom would not fall. He would not allow the great glass cities to be smashed and torn apart. In his mind, he could hear the cries of the ocean, of the Atlanteans elsewhere dying in torment and could see the blood in the water… _Do not dwell, Orin. Keep your mind focused._

He listened through the waters of Atlantis, the pipes and the tanks… he could hear the guards instructing Mera… she refused, and they used force. The whir of the ocean teleporters, and then a snap. Something wrought Orin out of shape, something twisted at him, something hurt him. He looked at Remora, who looked back with disgust.

"You have doomed us all, _king_," he said.

Orin snapped out his hand, and from nothing appeared water, and then cold metal – the trident of the King. Five other members of Poseidon's Guard hurried into the room, aiming to barricade the door. Outside, Orin could hear the scream of people. _Brainiac was anticipating my move_, he thought. _He was ready. He tapped into our teleporters. He has declared war on us. We will not die easily._

* * *

They did not go down easily. The fighting lasted days; Atlantean warriors fell to lasers and fire, robots died with spurts of electricity and explosions. Orin fought himself, he fought back the lesser tide, and then the council made him retreat. "No," he had argued. "I must defend my people!" In the end they had dragged him back from the losing tide of battle. He paced the throne room, waiting a result. He commanded troops from this room, he commanded the army of Atlantis.

"The teleporters, my king," Orin heard, "the temporarily reactivated."

"Are they still online?" he asked, hopeful.

"I am sorry my king, no."

"Why did he activate them?" asked Orin. "To bring in more troops? Why? We know they brought robots to birth more robots. It makes little sense."

"Is it not clear?" said the old man who sat at the foot of the steps below the throne, far away from the table that they conducted war over. "The alien has entered the fray himself."

A heavy silence fell upon the room. _If only I could contact Clark or Diana_. "This is an opportunity," Orin said.

Desperate faces squinted at the king, who stood at the foot of the long table. They said nothing, but offered a silent plea for more information. The king wandered away from the table, returning to the stairs that led up to the throne. He faced Remora, away from the table. "We lead them here, and we destroy the most of his fleet. In this room are the strongest and most powerful of Atlantis' warriors. We can lure them here, and destroy him. The cold steel of the robots can rust in a watery grave."

The men began to nod, whispering things. _They will support me_, he knew. _But my plan must be fool proof. Brainiac must not see it coming. _

And so they began their lures. They set bombs and traps everywhere, tactically in places that would release water and short-circuit their opponents. They used home advantage as far as they could. They pushed back Brainiac's forces, but still they seemed to edge forward, on and on. "They are growing desperate," Orin assured the people of his kingdom. _They have lost their families, their homes… I must keep them strong. I will be their strength. Their king._

* * *

It was one week after the traps had been set that Orin heard reports of Brainiac moving his troops towards the throne room. They had squashed the last of their warriors, though their scouts had said that Brainiac's hostly was vastly diminished, close to being defeated. Orin and Remora spoke in hushed tones at the throne about their strategies. They agreed that the throne room was to be the last refuge of Atlantis: it was all but taken, but they still had hope. Without Orin's plans before, Atlantis would have fallen already, and Orin would in all likelihood be a prisoner, kept by Brainiac for ransom. He would slay his friends, however; Remora would die, the guards would die, all of his council would know death. Orin did not mean to let that happen.

"Brainiac himself will come," Orin told Remora, "if he is assured that I am there. I can hold them off, I have power in my kingdom, near my throne. With my people."

Remora nodded. "If you can draw him here, we may be able to take him down. He is a creature of electric, is he not? An alien who requires that sort of terrestrial power? How curious, and yet it could work our advantage." The old man was sly, and had learned everything he could about this Brainiac, though he refused to call him that. A ridiculous name, he had said.

And so they did – Orin led a small host into the throne room, and in the distance he heard the footsteps of something larger. He knew it was Brainiac, it could be nothing else. He retreated into the throne room, and the warriors quickly disposed of the robots that followed. Pounding footsteps continued, as if unafraid. The shadow appeared, just beyond the door. The men raised their spears, and Orin raised his trident and his hand, ready to fight. Ready to destroy this man, once and for all. He would mount Brainiac's head on his trident and take it to the Justice League. Earth would cry out in thanks to the Kingdom and the King of Atlantis.

But when he came around the door, it was just a man. His hair looked blonde and short, spiked. He wore a simple leather jacket and jeans.

"Hello, Aquaman," said the man, his voice was threaded with dull, robotic tones. "It's nice to meet you again. After all this time."

"Do not let him poison your ears," Orin said. "These are scare tactics. Destroy him. He is nothing."

And the might of Atlantis fell upon Brainiac, and one by one they were slaughtered. Liquid tendrils that seemed to be made of some metal sliced them open, blood bursting from wounds opened. His hand became a giant axe, a thin blade, a hammer, and one by one they fell. Orin tried to enter the battle, but Remora held him back. "No, you are a king. You must not."

Remora said this, and then he jumped towards Brainiac; he battled Brainiac's tendrils with his spear, but he was an old man against an overlord, a conqueror of worlds. Brainiac slashed him open as he did the others, and then he threw the body aside. He walked slowly towards the King of Atlantis, smiling as he did. "Atlantean warriors fight nobly," he said, "and they die all the same. Pity. I could have used some organic servants."

"I will not be a hostage for you to ransom, alien," spat Orin. He snapped out his hand and his trident appeared. He reached out across the room, to the water in the tanks, and felt it press hard against the glass. The smashes ran out and the water flowed towards Brainiac, turning into bulls of water, horses riding him down. The tendrils erupted again and he seemed angry, he slashed at the water, dividing it up, hacking away at it. It hurt Orin. When the water was done, he had only his trident. _A weapon to fear._ "I will not be your slave," he said, slashing at Brainiac with every word. He slashed his trident across the alien's face, and almost smiled, until he saw the wound close up in front of him. Then the tendrils grabbed Orin, he felt them lift him.

_Clark will give me a look of pity_, he thought. _He and Diana will continue to look down me. And now I am a king with no kingdom. I am nothing now._

"I have slaves aplenty."

Orin saw Doomsday lumber into the throne room behind Brainiac, a giant beast. Around its neck, a collar glimmered in the pale blue light of the throne room.

"He was imprisoned!"

"And I released him. Didn't you feel it?" _There was too much loss; he knew I would never feel the ocean quiver whilst my people died screaming._ One of the thin metal tendrils reached up and clamped itself around Aquaman's trident. It pulled it free from his grasp, and he released a little. There was no point in fighting Brainiac, he had won this battle.

"When the League get here, they will respond to no ransom. They will beat you into submission and free me."

"Ransom?" asked Brainiac, and he laughed a little. "My _king_, I have no need to ransom you. Come the end of this war, Earth will be mine. Ransoms are for a return to peace. I will install peace in my own image. Men will kneel before my throne of ash and call me peacekeeper."

_No_, he thought.

"Yes," Brainiac said. He took Aquaman's trident into his hand and examined it curiously. "Magnificent work," he said. "I expect I'll find out all about it when I drain this wisdom of Atlantis. I mean to make it my new base of operations. The sky is... too open."

"I will not scream for you, alien."

"I don't intend for you to have the ability to. Screams are distracting. I do not revel in bloodshed, like some brutes do," he winked and nodded his head back towards Doomsday, and then he smiled. "This _will _be quick."

Orin meant to keep his eyes open, facing Brainiac, but in his last moment he wished he had not. He saw his trident rise and – though he felt it enter – he never felt it leave the back of his neck.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S AFTERWORD: **So that was pretty brutal. Glad you stuck with me through that. Goodnight, Aquaman. I never liked you anyway. The Fall of Atlantis was one of the first things Gavin and I discussed (we both agreed that the story could be made better if Aquaman were to die, and so we did it. We killed Aquaman), and this is the chapter in which it unfolds. It's been a fun ride. Next up is a Deathstroke chapter, y'all. Stick around, and read/review/favourite/follow! :3


	12. DEATHSTROKE II

**Author's Note: **Here's another Deathstroke chapter. The Gotham arc here has become very important, so the focus here is on it, for this and at least one more chapter, and then things begin to come together from everywhere. We're hitting our stride now, really, about half-way through the story. Hope you're all enjoying it! What do you think of this Joker, by the way? Gavin wrote this chapter (as he always does with Deathstroke, who he really likes), so all dues to him!

* * *

**DEATHSTROKE**

The fences around Amusement Mile were high and topped with coils of barbed wire; notices on the fence said that the park was closed and scheduled to be levelled, yet Deathstroke saw that they had glossed over with rust and dated back twenty years. _First they didn't care, now they're afraid to set foot in the place. _The high rising tents and collection of old amusements were barely visible now, hidden within a monstrous cloud of the hybrid gas that was currently choking the life out of Gotham. Slade approached one of the large entrance gates around the site with Nightwing close behind him. Giant guard towers had been erected at either side of the gate and salvaged scrape coated the gate itself. Slade thought he spotted a stop sign and license plates amidst the mishmash of scrap. "I suppose the front door isn't an option," Slade sighed as he watched the cloud of yellow gas rising from the park.

"If you think you can handle it go right on in," Nightwing replied.

"My oxygen filter would break if I went into that cloud," Slade said, "and so would yours."

"Shame you noticed, really."

Tired of his petty insults Slade turned, rounding on the little ingrate. "If there is something you want to say, weakwing, say it."

"You're an up-jumped thug, Slade. If you think this will absolve you of any of your crimes, then you're wrong. I will hunt you down, and I will arrest you myself."

"Are you done? I couldn't care less. I'm not here for absolution. I couldn't care less what you think," he said. "Is your bitch-fit over for now?"

Nightwing only glowered at him. _Idiot_, he thought. _I want my reputation back, I'll be damned if I want redemption and forgiveness from him, the self-righteous ass_. "The gas'll kill us, it's too thick, so we need another route. The Bat's fancy car might get us in there but I doubt its air-tight – same goes for his fancy jet. There could be sewers under the park which we can use but we'll need accurate plans of the whole area. The next problem is finding the Clown inside this place and shutting down his machines before the whole city dies."

"Are you talking to yourself?" Nightwing asked.

"I think aloud."

"Could you not?"

"Could you actually think and not leave it to me to save the day?" Nightwing went back to glaring at him. Deathstroke thought on, pondering ways to retrieve the plans. He tried to keep his thoughts inside his head, not speaking aloud, when he noticed Nightwing still glaring at him. "Please stop staring at me, it makes me uncomfortable."

A burst of static interrupted the impending argument. "What is that?" Nightwing asked. "It's not from my radio."

"Nor mine," Slade added. _Great._

A few seconds of searching brought Slade to the base of the abandoned guard tower that partially enveloped the perimeter fence. "It's here," Slade said bluntly as he tore a rusted panel free.

Behind it was an old fashioned TV, its screen a flutter of static. Slade even notice a tiny web camera taped onto its top. "Is that a TV?" Nightwing asked as he strained to look over Slade's shoulder.

An image slowly formed on the TV. It looked like some kind of throne made out of black wood and wrapped in bunting. "For the last time," came a voice and a laugh from the television, "I _have _a religion. Please stop knocking on my door," he giggled.

Deathstroke squirmed at the voice. He didn't truly fear the clown, but he made him more uneasy than any other rogues that heroes kept. Lex's motivations were uneasy; Doomsday wanted to destroy; he himself only ever wanted a cheque. Joker… Joker was something else. He leapt onto the screen with an unnecessary flourish in his purple suit, a large dead daisy in its lapel, shock of mad green hair, pail white face paint and a red grin that split his cheeks. At the sight of the two waiting at his gate – no doubt through a TV of his own – the Joker cheered. "Ha! Well look who it is, Chicken Wing and _Popeye_!"

"Joker," Nightwing said.

Slade didn't say anything. Slade had learned early on in his life that people could be manipulated, coerced into doing things that they didn't want or agree with. It made people simple, uncomplex, easy to follow. Everyone has their price. But not Joker. Money held no interest for him, in many ways it had no meaning to him. While others see the power in money he sees it as what it really is; green paper we imbue with value. Joker had no limitations, no boundaries, no piety. In the end his only goal was to watch the whole world burn at his feet and watch Batman try to stop him. It was this that made Slade so afraid of him.

"In the flesh!" Joker giggled with a wave of his white gloved hand. A frown then took the place of his usual grin. "Where's Bats? Please tell me he hasn't died _already_. He hasn't even seen the _punch-line_ yet!"

"He's alive," Nightwing assured him. "And he is going to stop you."

"Oh I'm _counting_ on it." Joker laughed darkly. "Just not yet!"

"Turn off the machines now, Clown," Slade snapped. "Or I'll come in there and kill you myself."

Joker threw his head back and laughed his chilling laugh. "And they say _my _jokes are bad!" he gasped as his laughter died away. "Wow, you are a catch Popeye, you really are! But I've really got to ask," Joker said, addressing Nightwing this time, "why is he here with you?" A evil giggle escaped him. "Is he trying out for the role of _sidekick_?"

Nightwing seemed to tense. That obviously struck a chord with him. _Why is a bad joke bothering you? _Slade did not miss it – he rarely did. _Does that mean something for you?_

"Nobody seems to know yet," Joker said with a sad tone in his voice. "Batman hasn't said a thing to anyone! Even to me that's just..." Joker tutted as he shook his finger at the camera.

"What is he talking about?" Slade demanded to know.

"Just a little inside joke, Popeye, nothing you need to worry about," practically skipping to the throne in the back ground he leapt on top of it a reached up out of the camera's line of sight. Moments latter he bounded back with something in his hands. "I kept it you know," Joker giggled as he held the item up for them to see.

_A crowbar? Why would he keep that? Hang on... is that blood. _Nightwing had gone silent as the grave at the sight of it. "What's the matter, Chicken Wing? Mourning your avian friend?"

"Avian?" Slade muttered.

Joker leaned in close to the camera until his breath began fogging the lens. "Think that one over, Popeye. I'm sure even an ape like you will get it eventually!"

It was then he snatched up a chart and began consulting it, putting on some broken reading glasses to do so. "Just as I expected," he said grimly before taking his glasses off. "I don't need these," he sighed mournfully as he tossed them over his shoulder. "But the good news is my plans are going swimmingly indeed!"

Joker showed them the charts contents. It was labelled "To Do List".

**ONE )** Acquire fear gas FORMULA! :)

**TWO)** Make hybrid with HAPPY gas and FEAR gas!

**THREE)** Acquire eggs

**FOUR)** Poison Gotham, make them choke and squeal and giggle!

**FIVE)** Challenge Harley to make an omelette _without_ breaking a few eggs [beat if unsuccessful]

**SIX)** Irritate the Bat

**SEVEN)** Repeat steps five and six until Batman puts me in a full-body cast

"I'm already on step _seven_," he laughed.

"Come on. We aren't getting in any time soon," Deathstroke ordered Nightwing. Nightwing had grown quiet and sombre, Deathstroke noticed. He wondered why Joker had managed to get to him; he had been deeply affected.

"Don't you _wooo-rrry_! I'll be right here!" Joker assured them. "I wouldn't want to miss a second of this!"

And with that he swung the crowbar down on the camera, and the music of static played on.


	13. BATMAN III

**Author's Note: **Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na BATMAN [chapter]. Courtesy of Gavin, of course, Batman chapters are his calling. Enjoy! Review!

* * *

**BATMAN**

Crystals of frost glimmered on every surface in the science laboratories of Wayne Tech; a cool and slow mist hung low in the room, at ankle height. Batman looked down at the battleground below from cover in the rafters. Cabinets containing various chemicals and contraptions had been smashed open, their contents scattered across the icy floor. Many more valuable items had been locked away by the security lockdown, kept secure and hidden under protective blast shields.

Victor Freeze lumbered along the lines of equipment in his heavy spacesuit like armour, carrying his almost cumbersome ice gun in both hands. "Please, Batman," Victor almost pleaded in his robotic like voice. "I do not want to harm anyone; I simply want the crystal I came here for."

Freeze would do anything in his attempts to save his wife. He took up his life of crime not for money like Penguin or chaos like Joker. It was all for Nora. In many ways, Batman actively pitied him the most of all his gallery of rouges. Freeze was not a combative man by nature; in fact he was everything but confrontational. Freeze didn't want to do the things he did, commit crimes. In a way he had to. Nora was his world, the one thing he couldn't live without. Victor was a reluctant villain in a harsh uncompromising world.

"Don't you want me to succeed?" Victor asked the room at large as Batman and Batgirl watched him from the shadows above. "Crystals are the key to the cure for her, Batman! A cure! No crimes from me anymore if she is cured. I will lock myself up in Blackgate when it is done. Just to have her back."

Bruce understood loss all too well; some would have been swayed by this man's crimes, but Batman wasn't willing to compromise on this. _The __Batman is a symbol of justice. If I allow him to escape, then the lives he took on the way in here will have been for nothing. _And with that thought, he jumped.

Batman came crashing down on the top of Freeze's domed helmet, the sudden weight sending Victor crashing to the floor with a startled cry. The freeze gun flew out of his grasp yet it was still connected to his suit by long, metal cables – he had encountered this very situation before. Quickly, Batman drew his EMP device and tried to attach it to Freeze's suit, but he was stronger in mechanised suit and was able to swing his massive armoured arm back, knocking Batman clear off his back. Batman rolled across a nearby counter before landing in a heap on the floor.

Victor was first on his feet. He snarled angrily at Batman's unyielding sense of justice. For a moment he stooped to pick up his weapon as well as the EMP device that Batman dropped. "Very well, Batman," Victor snarled as he crushed the device with a single hand. "You leave me little choice. If I must shatter you like glass, there is no other option. I am sorry, Batman."

"Not your finest moment," Batgirl pointed out over his cowls radio.

"No, it wasn't," Batman agreed. He cast his eyes up and around, though his observation was restricted from behind the table. He needed a way to return to the shadows. "I need you to attack him next," he said to Barbara, keeping his voice low.

"Because if at first you don't succeed-"

"Just do as I say," Batman interrupted.

"Now?"

"Wait for my signal."

"What would that be?"

"You'll know."

Freeze's boots made him easy to track; they slammed against the ground with every step, echoing around the room. Batman kept crouched and followed him, staying close but not too close. "Where are you, Batman?!"

Batman drew the grapnel hook from his belt. _Keep looking for me. Just a few more seconds, Freeze. _"Stop hiding from me!"

Batman lifted it up, aimed true, and fired. The claw of the grapnel gripped the shin of Victor's right foot. Freeze stopped dead in his tracks; the suit made him slow to react to things like this, though he had great strength. His head slowly moved down, Batman could see the outline of it in a silhouette.

With an almighty roar Batman pulled on the cable with all his strength. Again Freeze cried out as he fell to the floor, landing on his back. Batgirl dropped out of the shadows, her feet connecting with his chest. The impact knocked the wind clean out of him. "Sorry, Snowman!" Batgirl apologised without a hint of sincerity.

Before he could raise his freeze gun in time Batgirl planted the EMP on him. Freeze's armour shut down instantly, his armoured limbs crashing to the floor. Victor strained against the sudden dead weight of his armour, gritting his teeth as he tried to get up and throttle Batgirl.

"If it's any comfort, your armour sucked before it became a paperweight," Batgirl smirked as she patted his glass visor.

"I will freeze the marrow from your bones, Batgirl. Let me go, Batman," he said.

"Shut up," Batgirl sighed tiredly.

"Nicely done." Batman said when she reached him.

"Thanks. Where's Fox?"

"Archives."

Both of them made their way towards the archives, where Lucius spent most of his time in these old laboratories. _Lucius loves old science more than the new_, he thought. "Release me Batman!" Victor demanded.

"Will he be okay?" Batgirl asked.

"That suit weighs two times more than him," Batman replied. "He'll be there 'till hell freezes over."

* * *

The archives were hardly ever used, it was little more than a relic of the time before everything was digitalised. Tucked away in the lower levels of the building the archives saw little traffic these days. Lucius kept sensitive documents in some of the archives, though Bruce couldn't be sure this was one of the archive depositories where they were kept. He had a lot of these. All Bruce knew was that they were kept in high-security vaults. Batman wondered if an experienced thief, one like Catwoman, could break in. _Not that I'll be asking her to_. Both Batman and Batgirl strode by towering shelves of dusty boxes that were full to bursting with old paper. At the very end of all the shelves was Lucius taking a large metal box off one of the top shelves with the aid of a set of very tall ladders. "You can put them back Lucius," Batman called to him, "The situation has been resolved."

Lucius Fox was in a tweed brown jacket and trousers, bright blue shirt and navy coloured bow tie. Lucius's dark skin was dotted with freckles, his once black hair now grey. Lucius rolled his eyes with sigh. "You could have at least," he said. "Now I have to put this back. I'm not young anymore!"

Batman smiled at the man. Yes, he was old, but he was as valuable as Batgirl, as loyal as Alfred. Bruce always had the feeling that Lucius knew his identity, though he never let on. No more than subtle hints, their relationship was never hinted at. It was clear to Bruce early on that Lucius knew. Other than the immediate members of the Batfamily and Alfred, Lucius was the only one Bruce did not object to knowing his secret. _If only he really was the only one to know._

"You're to find the silver-lining in this cloud, I take it," he said.

"You'd be right," Batman replied. "What can you tell me?"

"Just the usually toxic gasses we usually face with Scarecrow and Joker, it's just a matter of finding the right chemical to neutralise it," Lucius sighed. "I was busy testing some combinations when I was interrupted. He didn't destroy the whole lab, did he?"

"Nothing some portable heaters won't fix," Batgirl replied.

"I'm not sure I have the ability to ice-skate anymore," Lucius laughed lightly. Batman knew he was past seventy.

"Before you do, take a look at this," Batman said as he held out the control collar.

Lucius took the collar from him with both hands. "Heavy," Lucius noted. "Looks like a device of some kind. Or are you just swapping belts?"

"Almost," Batman said. "It's a Kryptonian control collar. Brainiac used it to manipulate Doomsday into attacking and killing Lex."

"Oh," Lucius said. "Well it looks like you found out what it is, why do you need me?"

"I need you to tell me how it works. If we can duplicate it then we may be able to pacify Doomsday. Permanently."

"I thought he was at the bottom of the deep blue sea?"

"It won't last."

"I'll look into it," Lucius murmured as he turned it over in his hands, his eyes wide with interest. He began to disassemble it.

Batman stood back and watched Lucius work; he watched in silence, though Batgirl occasionally said something. On one side of his tiny private lab was equipment analysing the hybrid gas while on the other was the work bench he walked towards. Lucius took a pair of thick, black-rimmed glasses. "Let's crack this thing open," he said as he turned it over, looking for screws to unscrew or bolts to undo.

After less than a minute of waiting Lucius open the collar with a crack. For a few moments he simply looked at the collars contents. "What is it?"

Lucius removed his glasses. "I don't quite know," he admitted.

Batman moved to his side to get a closer look. Inside a small receptacle within the collar was a piece of broken golden rock. It was in the shape of a gold bar yet no larger than a tipple. _A battery._

"What is that?" Batgirl inquired after she came to have a look for herself.

"It's gold kryptonite," Batman said.

"Gold?" Batgirl asked. "I've heard of green and blue, but gold's a new one. What does it do?"

"It takes away a Kryptonian's powers," Batman explained. He eyed the rock suspiciously and wondered where Superman was. "Permanently."

"Wow," Batgirl said with shock, "Suddenly I see what the big deal is."

"If this can take away Superman's powers, why haven't we heard about it?" Lucius asked.

"Because I've only encountered it once," he said. "It was a long time ago; Lex had found some of the stuff, tried to use it on Superman. We took it from him."

"Well, I hate to point it out, but it looks like we are going to need some more," Lucius sighed. "This stuff ain't gonna cut if you want the effects to be completely reproduced."

"Can't we just melt it back into shape?" Batgirl asked.

"Kryptonite fell through the earth's atmosphere," Lucius explained kindly, "so as you can imagine it ain't easy to melt. And to even achieve the temperature to restore it… well, we'd need Superman to fly it into the sun. That's not really an option."

"So we need more kryptonite then?" Batgirl asked.

"Seems that way," Lucius replied. "I'm not sure what would happen if another type of kryptonite was used, but I'd rather not find out. This is the only collar we have I presume?"

"Yes."

"Well we'd best not tamper with it too much. If it breaks, we're done."

"If this stuff is so rare, the problem is getting more," Batgirl pointed out.

"Kryptonite gives off a specific kind of radiation," Lucius said after a few moments of contemplation. Lucius picked up the golden pieces after slipping on some gloves. "From what little research I've done into the meteor rocks I know that each gives of a slightly different type of radiation, it's why the different colours have different effects." Lucius placed the pieces into a machine shaped like a microwave.

"You gonna cook the thing?" Batgirl asked.

Lucius gave that a chuckle. "This isn't a microwave. It's got a very long, very boring number as opposed to a name, so why don't we call it a Kryptometer?" He looked up for a moment, and then down again, smiling. "Yes, I like that. It's basically a long range Geiger counter." As he was speaking he was pressing buttons and flipping switches lodged into its control panel. "It should be able to scan the radiation given off by the gold Kryptonite and then detect any pieces that may be out there."

Just like a microwave it hummed as it scanned the alien rock. And just like a microwave it pinged when it was done. Batman noticed Batgirl smirk at that. Lucius checked a nearby computer for the results. "Well," he said, turning the screen so the others could see, "as luck would have it there is some of it here in Gotham."

"Here?" Batman asked. _If any meteorites fell into Gotham I'd have known about that, the Batcomputer scans the sky at all times. But if it didn't fall to earth, then that must mean someone brought it here. The question is, who? _

"Yes," Lucius said, peering at the screen, "the radiation is small, but definitely there. Hmm... it's in a warehouse of some kind... a LuthorCorp facility."

"And things just got complicated," Batgirl sighed.

"It looks like it was going to be shut down," he said. "The new CEO of LuthorCorp sold it to a subsidiary of Daggett Industries. I think they were just about to close up shop when the Joker attacked."

"We need that Kryptonite," Batman said simply before turning to Batgirl, "Let's go. Now. Lucius, send the coordinates to the cowl."

Before he'd even taken two steps his cowls radio picked up a signal. _Nightwing_. "What is it Nightwing? Can it wait?"

"I really don't think riots in the streets can wait!" Nightwing replied sound more than a little on edge. Batman could hear voices in the back ground. People were shouting the likes of. "Get outta here, freaks!"

"You decide to call your boss now?!" Deathstroke snapped, his closer than the others.

"Can it, Slade!" Nightwing growled. "No, it can't. The police are out in force but they are just slowing the rioters down, not stopping them. We need you and Batgirl back out here."

"Put the radio away and pick up your damn drum sticks!" Slade yelled. "We've got company!"

"Follow my radios GPS!" Nightwing shouted, the sound of distant gunshots rang out, and smashing bottles, roaring flame. "Hurry!"

"That doesn't sound good," Batgirl sighed, who had been listening in over her own communicator.

"Gotham needs us out there," Batman decided. "We have to help restore order with the police."

"What about the Kryptonite?" Lucius asked.

He thought hard for a few moments before realising there was only one real option. _Last hope._

Batman placed a call with a frown on his face. It rung for almost half a minute, and just when he's given up hope of an answer the line clicked and a seductive voice answered. "Hey, Bats. Just callin' in to check on little old me? I'm flattered."

"I don't have time for jokes,." Batman said shortly. "I need your help."

"Skipping the foreplay?" Catwoman purred. "I like it."


	14. CATWOMAN I

**Author's Note) **Introducing a new point of view character! Gavin wrote the beginning of this but found he struggled with Catwoman, so I took over and wrote the vast bulk of it (very little of Gavin's actual text actually made its way into what you see below). He did, however, give me a starting point to work with, so that's great. Anyway, I hope you like it. If you're really enjoying this story and the long delays are getting to you, I am really sorry. My other fanfiction (_The Last of_ _Them_) is slowing progress on this a little because the chapters are so long. Next up is either a Superman or a Green Arrow chapter. Which would you prefer? Let us know in reviews!

* * *

**CATWOMAN**

* * *

The loading yard of the LuthorCorp warehouse was eerily silent. Moving trucks sat in rows, untouched for some time, sat in straight rows, parked. Some of their doors were shut, and bodies lay in them. _Poor suckers probably thought they could keep out the gas_, she thought. She moved past corpses that lay in large, geometric circles – from above, it might even look like they were dancers, making shapes for the leisure of those high above them… but to Selina Kyle, they were just more corpses. It took a lot to turn Catwoman's stomach, but this certainly came close to it. _They look terrified… and delighted. Creepy. _As much as the cat burglar liked a little chaos, this was too much. Catwoman knew that Mad Hatter had been caught up in the gas, and she wasn't going to be next. She'd found a mask quickly, and attached it. Her goggles were over her eyes, though the mist produced a strange yellow glow that made it easy to see her way – though not too far ahead.

She made her way over to the door, doubting anybody was still inside. Selina had been surprised to hear from Batman in the midst of this madness, and even more surprised to find out what he wanted: use of her services. _Here was me thinking you were just an unyielding goody-too-shoes. Nice to know you're a little flexible on justice, Bats. _The burglar had no clue how a yellow rock was going to help stop the madness in Gotham, but she had some faith in old broody-too-shoes.

"The way I see it," Catwoman had explained to him, "if this doesn't stop, time will come when we just run outta air. I'll give you this one for free." Had she been near him, she would have winked. Catwoman did not have that privilege. "Well, maybe you could take me out to dinner when this is all over," she had added.

Batman grunted in reply. "Goodbye, Selina."

She had started to say goodbye, but it was too late – he had hung up.

Catwoman traced the frame of the metal control panel with one of her claws, and then flicked them inwards. It snapped open. If she could disable the lockdown, prying it open would be child's play… And then her communicator started bleeping. She sighed. The information projected onto her large red goggles gave her the ID: Holly Robinson. A finger pressed on the side of her goggles and answered.

"I'm a little busy here, Holls."

"I just got back to Gotham. What the hell is going on in there?"

"_In? _You're outside the quarantine dome?"

"Yeah –"

"Get far away from here then. Go to Star City. New York. Somewhere away from here. Metropolis isn't safe either…"

In the background, Selina heard the sound of a car door slam shut. Holly's voice seemed strained when she spoke again; she was leaning over. _No doubt hotwiring a car. _There had been a time where Holly had taken over the mantle of Catwoman, but it hadn't suited her. She didn't like the suit. Selina, however, liked the way it clung to her body. "What are you doing?"

"Helping save the day."

"Turning over a new leaf?"

The imagery set her on edge. Vines had crawled their way over the facility; it was the first thing she had noticed (after the smiling corpses). "Something like that."

"Stay safe. Love ya," Holly said, and the sound of a kiss came through the phone. The line went dead.

Selina licked her lips as she looked through the many, many wires that were entangled inside the control box. Luckily, she'd seen one of this design before. _Once you've seen one, you've seen them all. _She cut a blue wire, and the doors began to open slowly. "At least make it difficult for me." She had thought it would take the gas some time to seep into the building, and was surprised when the yellow stuff had already spilled into the room, filling it and hanging in the air.

Her high-heeled boots came into contact not with concrete, but thick, lush green grass. Words failed her then at the sight of what lay ahead of her; amidst steel walls were gnarled trees, huge, sprawling vines that twisted and moved on the floor. They seemed to sense her arrival, and backed away a little. "Just what I needed. A complication."

The facility had never been abandoned and yet it seemed that the plants there should have taken years to get to their current sizes. _Or seconds, if they've got a little fairy dust from Gotham City's greenest thumb… _She removed her whip from her belt.

"If that red-headed whore is in here, I best keep my feet off the lawn," she quipped.

Selina brandished her whip at a vine upwards and lifted herself off the ground and onto an upturned crate. She activated Batman's little toy and hooked it onto her belt. The wonderful dark knight had courteously left it for her behind Gotham's classiest garbage can. "Oh, Batman," she said aloud when she found it. "What a special night."

"It's like a Geiger counter," he explained. "It'll help you find what you're looking for."

"I'm not going to have to wear a radiation suit, am I?"

"No, you'll be safe."

"Phew. That wouldn't be flattering at all."

The small hand-held device began to click as soon as she flicked on its switch; a yellow light flashing off and on in the corner. "Just follow the clicking," she sighed and continued.

Avoiding all things green and growing was a time-consuming and necessary precaution; she leapt onto every patch of dirt and bare ground she could see. _I have to hand it to her, she's made steel ground as fertile as a field. _Selena wasn't much of a fighter, she preferred to go in and get out with as little hassle as possible. She usually got it, too; she was a proficient sneaker. Still, stand on one little stray branch and _she _would know.

Selena noticed that a box had been knocked open. High-grade scientific equipment was stored inside. _Expensive stuff. I wonder if old Bats would object if I picked a few pockets whilst I was in here. It's not as if Luthor is going to miss them…_

The deeper Selena got into the warehouse the thinner the yellow gas clouds became. She cracked doors and made use of crawlspaces where she could. It became clear to her eventually that the building was no warehouse; it was a scientific facility. Had there been people inside – which there were not – then the defences would be alert, and it would have made it much more challenging. But the gas made it challenging too, and once the gas disappeared, it was replaced with something else: spores. _Probably best to just keep this mask on,_ she reckoned.

It wasn't much longer until normal equipment stopped appearing and the truly expensive things started to crop up. A box full of Kryptonite bars had smashed open and were strewn across the floor, radiating and pulsing a faint green glow. _Eerie. _What was once an exosuit had been twisted through and smashed apart by vines that now retreated away from Catwoman. "Must be Luthor's old stuff. The man was crazy, but at least he had good taste." By "good taste", she meant "expensive".

The clicking began to click in frenzy, mingling with a new beeping tone. _Sounds like the prize is just around the corner…_ Catwoman said and leapt onto a large steel container. A tiny collection of vines began to creak as they turned towards her. _Are they watching me? _Selina had to admit that there had been a suspicion growing inside her that she was being watched since she had set foot in the place. "Don't tell your mama I was here, mmkay?" she said playfully and moved on. Their direction changed and they followed her… watching.

There was shipping container in the corner of the room, but it wasn't your average Joe. It was coated by a fine white steel that made her bite her bottom lip a little. _I need to get me one of those_, she thought, walking towards it. The vines seemed to whistle behind her and she ignored them.

With more noise and effort than she would have liked, she eventually cut a small cat-flap in the container, just enough for her to slip in, and crawled inside. Catwoman activated the nightvision on her goggles and she could see everything; but there wasn't much to be seen. In a corner, there was a small table holding a piece of steel the size of a pencil case. She sliced down its side with a finely honed claw and out fell a small yellow rock. About the size of a battery, it was not what she expected. _I was expecting something I little bigger_, she sighed, and dropped it into a pouch in her belt. "And now I just have to get out of –"

Two thumps sounded from one end of the container. The tips of two plant vines with barbed tops had punched through the container and began to spread across the wall… she could see them crawling towards her. With one great tug, the vines ripped the metal steel walls away and the room, leaving her exposed. The night vision automatically turned itself off when light flooded in, almost blinding her temporarily. A woman stepped into view.

Poison Ivy's body was most exposed, but for a green thong, a bra made of thin vines and a red overcoat that coated very little. Her skin had a green tinge all over, and Selina herself couldn't deny the allure of the woman… the sensuality of her. Fiery red curls tumbled all the way down to the small of her back. She looked angry, taking deep breaths, her cleavage rising and falling, immense.

"I know you're not a people person Ivy, but I might just take that to heart."

"What are you doing in here, Cat?"

"Oh, you know, just browsing the merchandise," Catwoman replied, leaning on her hips. Selena's stance and tone was cool and casual but her mind was racing. _Find a way out find a way out find a way out. _In her own way, this woman was as warped as Joker. A deranged ecoterrorist. Human life was to be swatted by her.

"Really?" Ivy said, walking towards her slowly. _Well ain't she got some swagger. _"See anything you like?"

"If you're talking about yourself, I'm sorry to disappoint you, honey. My type is tall, dark and brooding."

"What have you got there?" she asked, vines rising slowly around her.

"Oh, come on, Ivy," she said, sighing. "I don't want to cause trouble. I actually agree with the whole save the rainforest thing."

"You called me a whore," she said simply, with a lot of heat.

"Great. The vines have eyes and the grass has ears."

"I know what you have in your belt, Catwoman," she said. "I've been searching for it for some time. So have my babies," she said. The woman was telling the truth; the vines seemed excited, edging back and forth around Selina. It was unsettling. "It makes us stronger. We can do things we never could before with that rock. Can't you see them already? They're all around you…"

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"The gold rock. _Give it to me_, or I will take it."

There was something smooth in Ivy's voice that made Selina _want _to give her the rock. She could feel herself going a little light-headed, a little woozy. She shook her head and removed her whip. "Come on then, bitch."

The vines snapped at her, but she had her own vine – a whip with sharp edged and a furious slash; she savaged the barbed heads of the vines off, but they kept coming back. Where one fell dead – and Ivy screamed for each that fell – two more sprouted. Selina, taking a leaf out of Batman's book, took to the ceiling. The vines grew in response, but they couldn't reach her.

And then the flat lid of a tree smashed into the ceiling, denting it, smashing away the rafters to the side. She almost fell, but caught her footing again. _That was close_, and then she saw it come towards her again – she tried to move out of the way, but it caught her and she was forced through the roof. The tree kept growing, always when she thought it was going to stop. She knew she had no choice… the tree kept growing, she could feel the tree throbbing beneath her. _She got her hand on some of this rock earlier. It's so powerful. _She began to get cold, and she jumped off the tree, using her whip to snap onto the tree. Above, she heard a great explosion and a rip, and she saw… … she saw two green lights beyond the big yellow dome, and she saw it tear and rip.

Gas began to leak out of the dome, spilling into the world.


	15. SUPERMAN II

**Author's Note: **I know, I know. I got three messages (and a review) telling me that you wanted a Green Arrow chapter, but it's big and I'm tired. I decided to edit one more chapter tonight and post it up for _Justice League Divided_. We're over half way through now, and I hope you're enjoying the story. This chapter was much shorter than the Green Arrow chapter, so I decided I may as well edit it quickly. I'll post the Green Arrow chapter when I update my other story, _The Last of Them_, which will be probably around the same time (but 24 hours from now). Enjoy!

* * *

**SUPERMAN**

* * *

Kal-El stood before his biological parents in a stunned silence. He had only ever seen his parent's faces in projections from the Fortress of Solitude and even then the image was faded and grainy. Never before had he seen them entirely and as clearly as they were now. Tentatively, Clark reached out to touch his mother's face, but his hand scarred nothing, it passed through her, leaving no mark. "What is...?" Clark began, too surprised to organise his thoughts. "How...?"

"This is the collective knowledge of the House of El," his father explained. "We had originally intended for this to be the vessel that took you to earth. That way you would have been able to learn of your origin as you grew."

"But the ship was too large to escape the gravitational pull of the sun, so your father knew a smaller ship had to be used," his mother explained. "This ship was intended to support you, we were here to teach you as you grew. In time it's fallen into disrepair, with no energy to supply it. We moved the main reactor into your own ship. It was very small." Her voice was softer than the projections from the Fortress led him to think. She had blonde hair that fell just below her shoulders in lazy ringlets. She was beautiful; and she reminded him of Lois, even though his mother was fair where Lois was dark.

Kal-El nodded, and smiled a little. He had never truly known his Kryptonian parents yet still the connection he felt for them was strong. In the midst of conflict with himself, in the struggle to find his own identity, there was something comforting about the presence of them. It made him feel calm, secure. "It's good to see you both."

"And it is good to see you too, son," Jor El said back.

But there was something dark in all of this, something that twisted at Clark. _If they knew about my failure on Earth, I doubt my real mother and father would be so proud. _His thoughts seemed childish, yes, but he did feel that he had failed. Superman felt alone. "What is troubling you, Kal-El?" his mother asked.

"I failed Metropolis," was all he could manage.

"What do you mean?"

"Doomsday attacked the city. I was dealing with something elsewhere and I came too late. A lot of people died. People died because I wasn't fast enough."

"Have you lost someone close to you, my son? You should not feel any guilt. You have abilities, yes, but you cannot save everyone. You must smile for the lives you do manage to save. Grief is a natural response. You've been on earth for all of your life, you will feel as they do."

"His name was Lex Luthor. He wasn't a friend of mine – wasn't even an ally. We both came into conflict regularly." Before he could stop himself Clark pressed on. "I know that I shouldn't be happy he's gone, but a part of me is relieved that he is. He killed a lot of people whilst he lived. He was a force I had to stop, and now there is one less threat in the world. But he didn't deserve to die. I have a duty to protect everyone, no matter who they are to me. Friends, strangers, my worst enemies – I have to save them all because that's the kind of person Superman has to be. It isn't my place to decide who lives and dies."

Both of the apparitions watched Clark with something in there eyes. Perhaps it was pride still, maybe it was sadness. Clark thought he saw sadness in there, but it wasn't true; though they appeared more whole than projections, they were just that. There was nothing in there eyes. They were serving as a mirror to his emotional state, though he could not know that. "Kal El, you may have the powers of a God," his father said, "yet you are not one. You are human, and for that I am truly grateful."

This response wasn't one Clark was expecting. "But I couldn't save them. I couldn't save Lex."

"You are the greatest hero that Earth has ever known," his mother assured him. "And the burden of this lies heavy on your shoulders, but these humans do not hate you. They do not resent your failures, they celebrate your successes. The question you must ask yourself is this: have you truly failed earth and its people?"

Clark pondered this question for a time, his parents watched silently. All of his failures came to mind first. All the people he just failed to save, the disasters he couldn't prevent. But then he remembered all the good he had done. All the people he did save, the people he inspired to do good, the criminals who's plans never came to fruition because of his intervention. Then there was the Justice League. Superman had helped bring all of the JLA's members together and with them help to prevent evils that threatened the entire planet. But his responsibilities didn't stop at earth. He had crossed solar systems to save planets, crossed into parallel earth's to battle injustice. But Superman was strong and powerful, but he was not omniscient, he was not omnipotent. He could soar across the galaxy, but he couldn't save everyone. He couldn't always be vigilant, Lois had told him that herself.

"_You can't just stay Super twenty-four-seven, Smallville,"_ she had said to him when he tried to leave their apartment to spend all day patrolling Metropolis during his vacation. "You might not like it, but you're just as human as me."

"Oh my god, you can fly too?"

"Quit the sarcasm, boyscout. That's my turf. I'm just saying, you need some you-time. Let your hair down, hang your cape up."

"But while I'm sitting watching TV people can get hurt. I can't be that irresponsible."

"Okay, three things. One, you need to remember you aren't the only super out there. Let Wonder Woman jump in the ring for a change. I'm sure she's bored witless walking the sands of Amazonia or wherever the hell she's from. Secondly, by going out there constantly you're only putting more people in danger. If you run yourself ragged then you'll start making mistakes and getting more people hurt."

"And third?" Clark had asked when she went silent.

"Me," she said with a coy smile. "I mean," she said playfully, "if you start spending all your nights out there, who's going to be left to spell check my articles?"

Clark only laughed at that. She always knew what to say. _Her spelling really is terrible._ "Is that all I'm good for?"

"Well," she said pulling him close to her, "you are good at everyone's favourite indoor activity."

"Is that what we are calling it now?" Clark asked as he kissed her.

"You really want to talk about names right now?"

"I think I can leave it alone for now."

"No," Clark said to projections of his mother and father. "I haven't failed them."

"For your own sake, my son, stop believing that the worlds troubles can only be carried by you. You have done so much for so many Kal. You have become the hero earth needs. Never forget that."

The images of Jor and Lara El began to flicker. "The ship is losing power," his father noted sadly, "we have little time left."

"Is there a way I can save you?" Clark asked the images. _They are just projections and I'm still trying to save them. _

"No, you can't, but you can save yourself from this torment. When this ship's power fails you will return to earth and put these doubts from your mind."

He nodded. "I will."

He sat with them for what felt like a long time, telling them things he hadn't told people before. They told him about Krypton and its fall; he asked about the residents, things he hadn't known. The Fortress of Solitude held information aplenty, but he had never truly known things before. People were just names, but they told him stories. They still held stories in their databanks, even in death.

When the ship finally fell dull and silent, Clark wondered if he would ever return here. _One day I'll bring this ship to Earth. Cyborg can try and remove the information. Boot it again. Maybe._

Clark looked around the cold and empty ship; a tomb of the past. He was alone, yes, but he no longer felt alone.

It was time to return to Earth.


	16. GREEN ARROW II

**Author's Note (and Apology): **I've received a bunch of upset messages asking me why I haven't updated in a while, same goes for my other story _The Last of Them. _Really deeply sorry for that. Things caught up with Gavin and I, but we're back in full swing now. ONWARDS! Now begins the final arc of JLD, where the war reaches its climax.

* * *

**GREEN ARROW**

* * *

"Are you sure this will work?"

Wally had asked this question a total of ten times as he and Oliver climbed the stairs of the Queen Industries building. Flash could have sprinted to the roof before Oliver had taken two steps, but he didn't, he stayed with him. _This speed must be driving him nuts, he's like a squirrel on crack when you make him walk. _True enough, Oliver could see his feet twitching, full of energy, wanting to burst.

"Yes, it will work!" Oliver assured him. _At least I hope it will._

Metropolis was barely recognisable with most of the buildings either in ruin or covered by a massive shield emanating from various Brainiac ships that haunted the sky. One such ship was directly above the Queen Consolidated building. Diana was with the other remaining heroes trying to push back the fight. They'd lost a lot of good friends; not all from the League, but friends anyway.

"Oliver, I need you to do something for me," she said to him. "It will be risky, but someone has to do it."

"Name it," Oliver replied without a hint of worry.

"With Zatanna gone our retaliating force has been greatly diminished. If we hope to stand a chance pushing Brainiac's forces back we need her to return to the fight."

"Okay..." Oliver said slowly, unsure as to where this was heading.

Diana looked out across the wasteland that once was Downtown Metropolis. Just down the street Cyborg was helping injured civilians out of an upturned bus while Starfire blasted away incoming missiles. "I need you and Flash to infiltrate one of Brainiac's ships and find out what he is keeping Zatanna."

"Oh..." Green Arrow had replied sounding a little stunned. "That's great."

"What's wrong, Arrow?" Cyborg asked as he came to join them, "You scared?"

"Don't be stupid, Vic. It had to be, some of us… well, we've gotten a little rusty."

"I don't get it," Cyborg replied in a deadpan tone.

Since then Green Arrow hadn't grown fonder of the plan. _Then again if all the superhumans tried to sneak into the ship they'd be found way too easy and I'd be left fighting off the whole invasion with just my bow. I mean, I don't want to win this all by myself. _

Oliver threw open the door to the roof and rushed outside. Brainiac's ship was hovering a few hundred metres above the roof, remaining there by some unseen force. Oliver smiled. "Let's get to work."

Drawing one of his trick arrows he planted it in the centre of the flat roof. Attached to its end was a thin metal rope. Looping the rope through another one of his arrows he fired it up at the ship. It sailed high above the city with the rope following it. He couldn't hear it striking the hull but he did watch the rope go taut. "And you said it wouldn't work," Oliver chuckled.

"We still have to climb up to the damn thing," Wally mumbled.

Arrow went first, climbing the rope quickly yet carefully. Flash followed behind him. They were about halfway up when Flash began to struggle. "Come on!" Oliver shouted down to him like some personal trainer, "It's just like climbing the ropes in gym class!"

"Yeah," Wally grunted as he pulled himself up. "I could climb the ropes back then either," he muttered miserably.

"For the love of –"

The ship started to shudder. "What the hell was that?" Flash asked in a panic.

"Maybe we scared it?" Oliver suggested jokingly.

The rope began to creak as the ship drifted to the right. "It's moving!"

"Then climb faster!" Flash ordered, wasting no time on catching up with Green Arrow.

Both heroes picked up the pace as the city got further and further away. With a snap the arrow anchoring them to the Queen Industries building broke. "Oh no!" Wally shouted in panic, clinging to the rope for dear life.

"Don't tell me you're afraid of heights!" Green Arrow shouted down to him.

"I'm not!" he replied with his eyes tightly shut and his entire body practically wrapped around the rope. It was bound with steel nanotubing on the inside; it would not easily break under their weight – but the arrows were a different matter. Enough pressure and _snap. _

Metropolis began to drift by below them, the war torn streets looking very far away. "Keep going!" Oliver ordered as he continued though more slowly now that the pavement was more likely to greet them than a roof.

After about two minutes of climbing Oliver reached the ship. Its giant mouth of pointed teeth was more for the aesthetics than anything else meaning Oliver was able to swing the rope out (which caused Wally to scream like a little girl) and grab on to its bottom jaw. With aching arms he pulled himself up between two of its teeth. Laying down he looked back down at the rope. "Wally!" he shouted down at Flash.

"I'm still here!" he assured him.

"You've just got a little further to go!" he called down to him.

By now he had reached the end of the rope and was eyeing the jump with doubt. "I'll catch you," Green Arrow assured him as he reached out to him, "Just jump!"

Flash looked down at Metropolis and sighed with a grimace. Swinging the rope back a couple of times Flash let go and threw his hands out towards Oliver's own.

Wally's fingers wrapped around Oliver's wrist seconds later. "I've got you!" he called out.

"Then pull me up!" Flash ordered, still clutching at his wrist.

Lifting Flash wasn't much of a challenge for Oliver. _I've lifted pillows heavier than you. _He hauled Flash up with ease. Upon placing his feet on the ship Wally threw himself onto the floor. "Solid ground!" he cried as he kissed it.

"Yes," Arrow said drolly, "it is a wonderful thing. Now get up, we have stuff to do."

"Sure," Flash sighed as he got back to his feet.

In the indent between the teeth was a small control pad. "You think you can work some magic?" he asked Flash.

"I guess. Budge up and give me a look."

They both side stepped each other leaving Arrow uncomfortably close to the edge. "You think I could call Di from here without the Brain Trust knowing about it?" he asked.

"The channel is encrypted but they'll be able to listen."

"So radio silence from here on out?"

"Yeah," Flash said, "Turn off your radio so they can't track the signal once we are inside."

Reluctantly he switched off his communicator. _Just an army of two against an actual army? I like our chances. _"Got it!" Flash said as the wall with the panel retracted into the opposite wall.

"Never been in a space ship before," Oliver said as he followed Flash inside. "Should be fun."

* * *

For a vast majority of the time both Flash and Arrow spent their time hiding from patrolling Brainiac troops. When Green Arrow first saw one walking down one of the many cavernous hallways he slipped an arrow out of his quiver and into his bow. "No!" Flash had hissed, "Each soldier communicates with each other so if you disable one unit the whole ship will know we're here."

"And just like that the fun was gone," Arrow replied and returned the arrow to its quiver.

For the next half an hour the two skirted in and out of the shadows, avoiding any and all Brainiac surveillance technology. At regular intervals they would pass control terminals yet would be unable to access them due to passing troops and watching cameras. But they did find one unguarded around the corner from some hovering turrets. "I know your fast," Oliver said as Flash got to work on the terminal, "but make this really fast, okay?"

"I just hope the computer's processor is as fast as I am."

So Oliver took up his vigil as Flashes hands darted across the computer keys. Soon enough his hands were a blur. "I'm in." he informed Green Arrow.

"Not your fastest time," Oliver taunted, peering around the corner.

"Ha ha," Flash replied dryly. "Give me a minute and I'll find Zatanna." He went quiet as he searched for her location. "That's weird," he mumbled.

"Well don't leave me hanging," Oliver sighed when he didn't continue.

"She isn't on any of the ships." Flash squinted at the screen. "She's somewhere called Stronghold Alpha."

"Can't find that on a map I'm guessing?"

"Yep, obviously Brainiac doesn't want to let slip where she is even to his own people."

The screen burst into static as the ship shuddered violently. Olive almost stumbled into the view of the turrets yet Flash was able to pull him back. "What the hell?" Oliver asked. "Did Superman just tackle the ship?"

Flash consulted the terminal. "It was a spacial disturbance," he announced.

"And for those who dropped out of college?"

Flash scratched his chin and sighed. "We teleported."

"Teleported? Teleported where?"

"I'm not sure," he said, continuing to type. He looked for some time, but there was a mechanical slide from off down the corridor and the turrets began to move.

"Wally, we gotta go. Turrets on the move."

"Damn it," he said and shut down the console.

They moved off through the ship the way they'd come, but noticed that the airlocks were all sealed. _Are we in space? Why else would they seal the airlocks? _

It was when they reached the main deck, which was empty but for small drones gliding around, maintaining and updating consoles, that they saw it. The gigantic windows that stretched against the entire prow of the ship from left to right that they had an insight; the great teeth of the ship were docked in what seemed like the ocean. Glowing lights from outside, fish living their lives and dead Atlanteans slain and all around them.

Oliver nudged Flash with his elbow. "Well, we ain't in Kansas anymore."


	17. GREEN LANTERN II

**Author's Note: **Ah, it's so nice to be writing again. So Gavin wrote the last chapter (hence all the witty dialogue), and now you're stuck with me for this chapter. I had a lot of fun writing this one. If you're waiting for an update on _The Last of Them_, you won't be waiting much longer. Soon, my children. SOON. I'm also working on a couple of new fics, but the others won't be affected. We're reaching the end of JLD (unfortunately), so Gavin and I are in talks to do a sequel but no promises. The other projects include another TLOU-fiction, except this time around it won't follow the characters we know so well. I won't say anything else on that one. The other one will be a _Mass Effect_ fiction probably to be called _Comfort for Monsters_. The first couple of chapters are finished for that one, but I've learned from my experiences with JLD and TLOT that I should try to keep ahead a little.

* * *

**GREEN LANTERN**

* * *

Yellow light far in the distance, and so tall, so immense, so powerful…

At his side, a stream of green again, was Guy Gardner, outfitted again in his full costume; his hair had been washed and his beard shaven. They flew, blurs of green against the black night sky. John could feel sweat on his brow as they drew nearer, despite the torrent of air rushing past and beating hard on his face. The immense fortress of light was a terrifying sight, and Guy hadn't said anything since they had first spotted it. He is afraid to, but that would not help them. Soon they would have to purge the fear from their minds and feel only inner strength, summon willpower and smash the hellish dome.

Only they couldn't smash it. Bruce had told John that inside the dome was gas, a hybrid of the fear toxin that his rogue Scarecrow used and the laughing gas of the Joker. _If I ruin the dome it'll be released out into the world. _He was flying too fast to know which way the wind was blowing; no matter what way he flew, it would always seem to be beating hard past him. The wind would lift the gas, not disperse it; it was too heavy, Batman had told him as much. The gas would lift itself up and away, headed towards Metropolis or Star City or god knows where else.

He could feel the yellow pulsing, ebbing away him from far. It made him want to run and hide, but he wouldn't. If he was worried miles off he wondered how people inside the dome felt; young children frightened, their parents dead with wide, sick grins slashed across their faces. It bothered John, but he had to look past it. He had to save those who were still alive; there would come a time to grief for the lost.

It was his ring that made it difficult for him. It didn't just emit, it also took in. It absorbed whatever was around it, like a starving plant desperate for light. It felt the fear too and rejected it, making him feel queasy. As they drew nearer he prayed to calm himself a little, prayed for the strength and the hope to continue.

The dome was mighty, stretching over the immensity of Gotham City. Almost ten million people were in the city; he wondered how many were dead. "How many d'you reckon are dead?" asked Guy at his side. They hovered above the dome, unwilling to touch it. Inside they could see the gas, swirling and thick, a cloud of manic fear. Somewhere off in the distance of his memories, John heard the high, sick sound of laughter.

John shook his head. "Too many to count for now. We need to find a way in."

"I think that –"

Before Guy could complete his sentence, John had formed a fist of light and smashed it hard against the dome. It did not give way; the light did not crack, only gave a low scream each time the fist smashed hard against it. He beat it hard and harder, yellow sparks sometimes spitting out from underneath the knuckles. Though he couldn't feel the temperature, he wiped cold sweat from his face.

A hand on his shoulder.

"Listen to me," Guy said, standing close to him. "That isn't going to work."

"How the hell else are we –"

"_Listen to me_," he repeated carefully, and then lifted off fast and flew up the dome. The fist dematerialised and John followed, up the dome but never against it – it could have been electrified with yellow light, who knows what Sinestro had imbued within the dome's walls…

It was on the far edge of the dome that John saw what Guy had wanted him to see – a tangled mess of branches and leaves had torn through the dome. "Back when I had a garden," Guy said, "we used to get these weeds. They would tear through anything. We put plastic sheets down, they broke them and came out. We put three plastic sheets and a slab of concrete down, they found their way out. Roots go deep, plants are hard stuff."

John flew a little closer to the tree. It was mighty and gnarled. It was unlike any other tree he'd ever seen, even when you take out of account that it was over a thousand feet in size and had shredded a construct made by an incredibly overpowered Sinestro, it seemed more like a tangle of branches and leaves, like some giant overgrown weed.

"This isn't a normal tree," he said.

Guy snorted in mock laughter. "I don't believe you."

With some trepidation, John slowly lifted his hand and rubbed it against one of the branches, thick and twisted. Inside he felt a thrumming, deep and immense, like the tree had a heart beating inside it. "Ivy," he muttered.

"It doesn't look like ivy to me."

"No, Poison Ivy. One of Batman's supervillains. She has control over plants. Not sure but I think maybe she's been made more powerful by this. Her plants may have a life of their own now."

"Right. So how do we get in?"

"If we push the tree through then we can go in as usual."

"No," John said. "The light is trying to close up, see there," he pointed. The light was; the branches look to be strained against it, but they were holding their own. Ivy's plants were being powered by something, though to be fair he didn't know or care what. _All I care about is getting in here._

"So we make a clamp, and hold it open for each of us to get through."

"Oh, but we don't have any tools," John said, scowling.

Guy stared at him.

"Oh, right."

They set about it, each Lantern in turn – starting with Guy – creating a clamp quickly as they pushed the growth through. Sure as sunset, the dome began to try and seal itself up, the walls squeezing the clamp hard. John flew through the gap first. Guy was struggling to hold it for any longer.

"John, hurry the hell up," he said. Light from the dome lit up his face that should have been in full darkness. Even the moon above was hiding behind a cloud.

"Now!"

Guy released his own clamp and John's appeared, snatching into place and holding the dome back. He held it there, hand twitching and struggling. It hurt, his hand tingled as if he had been sitting on it for a long time. But then it began to feel like fire. His vision began to dissipate and fade, his head began to float away from him… a hand on his shoulder again –

"Let go, John!"

The clamp snapped away and with a snap, the dome sealed itself; no sign that it had ever broken grazed the smooth surface. Guy had flown a little closer, only his outline visible in John's foggy vision, and inspected the dome from the inside. "Lucky light can't bruise."

"I don't feel so good," John said.

"Me neither. Think it was the clamp?"

"No," he replied at once. "It's something – off… something dark. Fearsome. We should start looking for him."

"I don't think we're going to struggle with that one, champ."

Mighty smashes off in the distance, and explosions. The screams of people amplified by the dome, every sound weighing on John. He hadn't known the feeling of a hangover for a long time, but this seemed to be what he recalled. _It's him_, he knew at once. _He's strong. He's so strong. _Even miles off the Green Lanterns could feel the fear that Sinestro was giving off; radiating like heat, a fire raging on and on. Yellow flames licked at their nerves, picked away at his will…

"Let's go," he said weakly and at once they were off, blurring through the sky. The moon had not reappeared to illuminate the streets below, but the fires set by vandals and thugs did the job well enough. People were running down streets, fleeing from people with guns. John wanted to help them, he did, but he couldn't. He had to end this, he had to end Sinestro's monopoly over the city and let it get the help it needed. Both of the Lanterns had used their rings to give themselves face masks, protecting them from the gas; John wasn't sure if his powers would let him withstand it. Sure, he could withstand airless space, but he'd been poisoned before.

_Metropolis, _he remembered. It too was falling into ruin. The Guardians had told him that, they had shown him what would happen to the city if the League could not stop him. "But first," they had said from the high, tall chairs, "you must attend to Sinestro."

The sound of smashing glass filled the air as they flew, and then they saw a glint of yellow behind a building, and then the building crumbled. From inside people screamed and shouted, begging for help. John and Guy didn't exchange so much as a word; they flew around to opposite sides of the building and they tried to hold it up, pillars of light replacing those that had been broken; the building still shook and crumbled, and at the windows there were people who had been hiding inside when this fight broke out. Their hands were pressed against the windows, eyes wide with pleading. John smiled and nodded towards them. "You're gonna be okay!"

Something caught John's eye and he looked over; Guy was roping up sections of the building that had collapsed, building the foundations again whilst people tried to escape. John made to do the same, but then the green ropes extending far away from Guy went limp and disappeared. _He feels the fear too, it's affecting us, he's so strong –_

He saw his hand tumbling to the earth before he saw anything else; the ring on his finger lit as it fell closer and closer towards the ground… and then he looked up and first he saw Guy, eyes wide. Then he saw Sinestro, smile wide. And then he saw the spear through Guy's chest, made of light and glistening with red blood. With a shredding sound, Sinestro tore the spear from him and let him fall from the air, down towards the ground…

John tried to move, tried to do something, but all he did was watch as his friends tumbled towards the ground. He couldn't react even when he saw the black outline of Batman fly from one building to another, catching his body and sitting it down.

And then, with all the fury of fear, Sinestro came at him.

Green Lantern John Stewart returned his blows. His spear met a giant fist and it was smashed apart; green guns fired and yellow shields blast them apart, knocking the gun away and crumbling the light. Sinestro's hand reached up into the air and pulled, and yellow rocks from nowhere fell down towards John. John lifted his hands across his chest and pulled up, spinning in the air; green debris slammed up and against the rocks, holding them as they fell, and then a yellow chain wrapped around his foot and tugged, ripping out from underneath the debris.

He screamed as he fell, and clenched his fist hard. He swung it in the direction of Sinestro and he took it to the face; the chains fell, but they didn't disappear. A green axe slashed at them and he regained his form.

"Do you hear that?" Sinestro called out across the night. "They _love _me, my beautiful audience."

John listened, and he heard only the screaming of the people in the building. Sinestro lifted his hand once more and a giant rocket appeared in the distance, and then another, and another, and another… and then the sound of screaming rockets in every direction filled the night, and the yellow. Oh the yellow. Only the terrified shouts of the people inside the building matched the explosions. John tried to fly towards the building, but something slammed against his head and he fell… down down down.

The earth took him hard. His mouth was thick with blood when he woke again and his vision was blurred. In the distance he saw the hand, and the ring. He looked behind him and he saw fire and screaming; a barrier down the road of yellow was keeping out fire engines, prolonging the time. People in the building were burning and screaming, dying. He didn't have much time. John reached out and the ring came to him and he slid it on his other ring finger. He summoned up all the strength he could and conjured guns; he imagined the complex circuitry inside a pistol, he knew all about it from his time cleaning them in the army. Trails of ammunition leading into the firing mechanism, feeding them out, the small hammers that pushed forward the back of the gun, igniting and firing… and he unleashed torrents of bullets across the street, a slew of them shredding the shields Sinestro threw up to try and deflect them.

He fell to the floor, his face redder than usual, blood staining his yellow uniform. On his wrist the yellow ring glowed angry.

"It's been a long time since I managed to kill a human Lantern. The last few have evaded me somewhat," Sinestro said, walking towards him. John staggered to his feet too. "How would you like to do this, John? Guns?" A gun appeared in his hand. "Maces?"

In John's hand a sword materialised. "This ends now."

"It's time for you to die, human scum."

"Evil _and _racist."

With a high war cry, Sinestro fell on him. Their swords slashed back and forth, emerald against amber; they tried to ruin each other, but John would not kill him, and that made it all the more difficult. Sinestro caught his sword underneath and slid it up and tried quickly to run his own blade across John's neck, and failed. His sword changed in his hand and became a great chainsaw, yellow and sawing. Sinestro tried to bring it down on John but he rolled back and threw an anvil at him, the first thing he could think of. Sinestro let the chainsaw disappear and flew above it. John flew at the speed of light into him, bashed him and taking him through building and then smashing him against the ground. He thought of cars and tanks and all things and he thrust them against Sinestro's face. Eventually, he fell.

But he got up again.

"No, Sinestro, no more," he said. Ropes of light bound Sinestro from neck to toe, holding him in place tightly. "Your ring can't have power left. This is over."

"Maybe it is," Sinestro said. His yellow eyes flickered up behind John and John turned and looked. Two shapes were falling down, holding onto something. The figures that fell were familiar to John.

"Good work," Batman said. Batgirl fell in at his side.

"I'm sorry," she said. "We saw what happened to your friend."

"He was a good man," John said. "He knew what might happen."

"He was a fearful man," came Sinestro's voice from behind them. "He was terrified of what might happen. It fuelled me, right at his end."

Batman's reflexes were seemingly quicker than John's; a hard, shiny and sharp-edged Batarang struck the alien in the face before John could do anything about it. Besides, he was tired and drained. John had to hold him there; he couldn't let him out again. His ring needed recharged, he needed to rest… Even now he still felt light-headed, stars glossed over his vision.

"The Batman strikes me," he said again. "I will remember this."

"Be quiet or I'll give you something else to remember," Bruce said and Sinestro was silent.

They talked for a moment between the three of them. Every now and again John looked back to be sure something was not wrong, that he was not up to anything. _No doubt he is up to something_, he thought. _I only need to make sure he doesn't decide to put it in play._

It was the grunt from behind a few minutes later, and then the spray of bullets that snapped him out of his stupor. _No, he's out – _

But he wasn't out. There was a blade protruding from Sinestro's gut.

"_Lantern get down!"_ He was so tired, he felt hands grab his shoulders and his stomach and pull him to the ground. Batman ran off after the shooter, that orange and blue armour. _Deathstroke, Deathstroke… _Sinestro's body was limp on the floor, and the ropes were gone too. _Why are the ropes gone? _Batgirl was on the floor at his side and she sat up.

"You're going to be okay, Green Lantern, you're going to be okay," she reassured him. "We have to dress this."

He tried to sit up and put his hand on his stomach but he screamed. There was never a hand on his stomach, only a bullet shredding him. It had ripped into his gut. He was tired and woozy and he saw that the moon had come out again.

"I'm so weak, my costume couldn't stop the bullet," he muttered. _I'm so weak. _

All the time, whilst Barbara Gordon ripped her cape away and tied it around his chest, he could hear nothing. The world was fading away and only the silvery orb high in the sky, sliding behind and in front of clouds was in his vision. The only thing in his mind. _At least the moon looks nice tonight_, he thought. There was no yellow dome above anymore. Sinestro's death had let the dome go, and he saw the gas moving away... out of Gotham City, the wind blowing it elsewhere. _The city is safe. _His eyes were too tired to recognise that the gas slumbered towards Metropolis.

And then he slipped away...

* * *

**Next up: Wonder Woman.**


	18. WONDER WOMAN II

**Author's Note: **Hi! So here we are again with another daily update. We're really churning out the chapters for _Divided_, excited about the direction and where it's going. There's not long left at all, and it's exciting to share it with you. So this is another chapter written by me. It's _not _terribly long, which is okay, because it's pretty dense and filled with what it needs to be filled with. Wonder Woman has always been a great character, one I've enjoyed, but I realise that this feeling isn't shared with everyone; hopefully, though, regardless of how you feel about her, you'll enjoy the chapter. As always, review with comments, follow, favourite! And I have a question for you: thus far, who has been your favourite point of view character to read? Let me know! :D

* * *

**WONDER WOMAN**

* * *

Something was happening, Diana of Themyscria could feel it in her bones. Six drones came at her in a semi-circle, firing their laser rifles all at once; time seemed to drag and she saw all of the bolts coming at her and deflecting them with her gauntlets. One wide-range thrash of her lasso and they all fell, and then one by one she smashed them with her fist and ripped out their inner circuitry. She looked around; the scarce heroes that were left were exhausted fighting. It was dawn and Brainiac had ordered an assault on the heart of the city during the night. The heroes had grouped together and fought them back, but there were so many at first and there were still too many now. She flew up to survey the damage from above.

The green and blue shape that was Martian Manhunter phased in and out of her sight way down Golden Avenue. He was assisted by Starfire, who was sending beams of energy from her hands, flying around a giant robotic beast the size of two cars. Around them swarmed drones. Even from a distance Diana could feel her fatigue, her arms no doubt ached as much as her own did. Superhumans had their limits and this war was pushing them beyond what they had known.

Her head snapped in the other direction when she heard a high scream for aid and she sped off, faster than any bullet. _Dinah_, she recognised the scream. Black Canary chose to come from Star City to aid Metropolis at Diana's request, needing all the aid they could. And now she was being overpowered; her abilities in martial combat were practically unrivalled, and she was holding off countless drones. Diana landed beside her.

"Finally," she said. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to scream louder."

Black Canary ran at a drone and flipped over it just as it tried to fire. Landing behind it she grabbed its head and smashed it into another drone and then threw the masses at a third. Diana slashed her lasso at one and swung it around, the lasso twisting into a noose at it flew towards the drone. They fought on and on until eventually only three remained, all with electrostaffs. They twirled them expertly, as if trained all their lives for this moment. One strike from the staff could not kill, but Diana had learned early on that it dealt a vicious, reverberating blow. All at once, they came at her. They slashed at her and she kicked them back, slamming her leg hard under where ones neck would have been. It stunted and fell back. Then Black Canary was on them too, ducking underneath each potential strike from the staffs; together they beat them back. When they were knocked out, their staffs lost their current of electricity.

"The electricity must flow through these patches in their hands," Dinah guessed.

"To stop others using their staffs against them."

Dinah nodded. There was a tone in Diana's ear and she pressed her finger to it.

"Wonder Woman," she said.

"Diana, it's me," said the voice on the other end. The low, gruff voice of Bruce Wayne came through the earpiece. "It's the dome over Gotham. It's been lifted, Diana. The hybrid gas is headed straight towards Metropolis."

_Oh, no_. "I'm on my way. Dinah, go to J'onn – tell him to fly out across the bay. I need him."

Diana of Themyscria's feet lifted from the ground and she flew out across Metropolis Bay. It didn't take long for her to see the great cloud of yellow slowly making its way across the water. The great cloud looked like a wall of smoke more than anything, sliding closer and closer to the city. It couldn't have been more than a few miles off the coast. In the west Diana could see Stryker Island, the penitentiary for Metropolis' most violent villains. It seems that they would be safe from all this. Scowling, she blasted towards the smoke.

"Bruce! Can you hear me?" she shouted.

"Yes," he said. "Where are you?"

"I'm in front of the cloud. It's moving slowly."

"Hold on," he said. Diana lingered a few seconds more, the cloud all the while lumbering and lumbering. From the cloud burst a great black shape; it looked like a helicopter but there were two fans – one on the bottom as well as one on the top. "The fans aren't making any difference, Diana. It's too thick, and if I spend much longer in there the smoke will clog up the fans."

"Where is Lantern?" she asked. "He can put a bubble around it of sorts."

The earpiece was normally crystal clear, but it crackled; clearly the smoke was somehow interfering with the transmission. "He's injured," Batman said gruffly. "Deathstroke shot him, he should be okay. Sinestro is dead."

_We're going to lose everything we have, _she thought. "What other options do we have, Bruce?"

"Where is Wally?" he asked, as if it had just occurred to him. "If he can thrust up some hurricane with the speed then we could blast apart the cloud into smaller segments, they would do much less harm. It's the thickness of it that's a problem." _There is rare hope in his voice_, she thought ruefully, _and I must destroy it. _

"He and Oliver are missing, sent to find Zatanna and now we are so short."

Wonder Woman had to back up a little, flying back from the great cloud. She did not know if it would hurt her, but she knew that it would soon be time for her to find out. Diana's abilities in flight did not match Wally's in speed, nor Clark's, but she wondered…

"If I can fly in a circle fast enough I may be able to split it asunder!" she said, moving back once more.

"No. You might breathe in some of the stuff. We don't know if you're immune yet."

Diana glanced behind her; the beach was drawing awfully close. She saw a blur of green and blue behind her. "Patch J'onn into the feed," she said. His voice, low and unique, came over the communicator next.

"Diana, Bruce," he said. "I can think of no way to interrupt the cloud's path. An evacuation of the city may be in order. Would this accelerate or decelerate Brainiac's plans?"

"It would cause a disruption to them," Bruce said, "but not enough that he'd actively try to help."

"Athena, give me strength," she muttered.

"Diana, _no_!"

She launched herself into the cloud, holding her breath. She could feel it against her impermeable skin, sliding up her nose when she didn't want it to. She flew, faster than she had before, in circles and loops and circles. Her body became a blur to her in itself, a great yellow blur – and, just by mistake, for one second, she breathed in.

The gas flooded into her lungs and set her skin on fire. It spread through her veins and she laughed and cried, tears streaking down her cheeks, burning her. Her body spasmed and she stopped mid-flight, seizing and twitching. The static on her earpiece gone mad and her eyes ablaze, wide and sore and sore and sore. _Athena, mother of courage, give me strength and will, please, goddess… _

And then she was tumbling, she was falling and she was dying. Above her the smoke began to break apart into piece. _I did it_, she thought. _I saved the people, all of them... _The sky came into focus, blurs of the sun, new and red, and the breaking blue sky come alive. _It will be a beautiful day, _she thought. _And soon this war will end. _On her back she felt something slam against her and blanket her, she had fallen into the sea. _I will drown here. _

Hands came onto her back and lifted her. _J'onn_, she thought. _Bruce_, she thought. But when she opened her eyes it was neither of them.

The Man of Steel, the Man of Tomorrow, the Last Son of Krypton had come home.


	19. SUPERMAN III

**Author's Note: **I'm not sure why, but this chapter took me longer to write than I thought it would. Certain character interactions had to be tuned up to make sure they felt real. I wrote this one (again), but the next chapter is written by Gavin and I think it's pretty hilarious. So, yeah, enjoy! Read and review, follow and favourite.

* * *

**SUPERMAN**

* * *

The core members of the Justice League of America gathered in the observation deck of Watchtower. Superman sat at the head of the table, Wonder Woman on his right. Off on the other side of the table Batman stood in the shadows, barely visible if you weren't looking closely. The Martian Manhunter and Starfire sat together on the other side of Superman. There were other heroes in the room too; Raven and Cyborg, Black Canary and Green Lantern.

The room was giant, ceilings high and rounded. Behind Superman the great immense windows that looked out onto Earth and the moon behind that stood. The command console in front of these windows looked daunting but in truth could do very little; they were used to open and close the window shutters in case their defences had to be activated. The satellite station had been funded largely by Batman as Bruce Wayne and designed by Wonder Woman, John Stewart and Cyborg. Diana's influences were apparent – the central halls and hangars were heavy on columns and pillars, though they were not necessarily needed; the ceilings were made of reinforced steel.

It was in the Hall that the teleporters were located, useful for heroes without the ability to fly and survive the cold of space. Some heroes, Wonder Woman for example, preferred the teleporter to flight, though Clark wondered if perhaps that was not motivated by a dislike of flying so much as a liking of Batman.

"How are you feeling, John?" Superman said, breaking the silence in the room.

"I've been better." The bullet wound had healed, but he himself felt laggy and tired and drained, Clark knew. Diana had told him; some of the others had been less cool about his return.

"We'll have to deal with Deathstroke when this is done," Clark said. "We can't let him get away with this. Do we have any indication of why he did it?" He looked to Batman but he remained quiet, standing in the dark. He looked angry, very angry. Stewing away in the corner. _Best just to let him be for now. _

Starfire pitched in, "Yes. I know Deathstroke, he will have been fulfilling a hit – not for money, but to restore his reputation."

"She's right," Cyborg said. "All channels agree that Deathstroke's rep was in ruin after the attack on Metropolis – after Luthor died. Chances are he did this to restore that."

"Did it work?"

"I'd say yeah, probably."

Clark shook his head. "Is the entire Gotham situation resolved?"

Batman spoke, though it was clear that he didn't want to. "For now. Joker and Quinn are still out there, as are most of the other villains, but the gas has cleared. Reconstruction is underway to Gotham."

"How many dead?"

"Projections at just over half a million."

There was a heavy silence in the room. _Half a million lives lost_. "Joker will face justice for this, soon, but now there is a problem for another time. First or our agenda is searching for Oliver and Wally and Zatanna."

Cyborg pushed his chair out and got up, moving around the table. Behind them a giant hologram of Earth was placed in front of the giant window that overlooked the real Earth, giving it a surreal sense of existence. As Cyborg walked towards the big globe it began to spin faster; he was pressing buttons and sliding things on the touch pad on the inside of his armour's arm. For the most part, Victor's armour had the ability to control the whole ship. _Not that it needs controlling_, Clark thought. The Watchtower stayed in orbit and enjoyed a quiet life; only twice had it ever needed to use its defences.

"I've been searching the globe for a while now and I can't find any of 'em. I had a trace on Zatanna at first – Arrow and Flash too – but I lost hers _here_," a red blip appeared on the globe, the spot Clark recognised as the location of Metropolis. "She was lost in the main Queen Industries building; she was on the grid until around _here_, and the same goes for Oliver and Wally. The ships seem to be crossing to this part of the ocean and then they're gone."

Wonder Woman looked, and sounded, uneasy. "The ocean? It is possible that Brainiac has erected some sea fortress, yes, but Orin would have told us. Aquaman is still our ally; he left only to keep his people happy."

"No, Diana," Batman said at last, emerging from the shadows. His eyes were firmly on Wonder Woman, they did not so much as glance at Superman. _He is angry with me for leaving_. "Aquaman has gone back into the sea to hide. We won't be seeing him again."

"Still, we should make contact. If there is a fortress he may be able to give us information, information that we need."

"There can't be a fortress," Cyborg said. All members turned to look at him. "If there were, we would be able to see it. Maybe not from Watchtower but definitely on one of our satellites. Look," he punched something into his arm and it chirped at him; the giant windows took on the function of a screen. The satellite footage showed the sea at large; still and unmoving and green. On the surface of the water, nothing.

"Raven," Wonder Woman asked, "do you have any way of finding Zatanna through magical means?"

"No, Diana, and not for a lack of trying." Raven had risen at some point, though Clark hadn't noticed when. Her dark purple cloak was fastened and her hood hid her face; he had seen her face before, of course, but he was surprised that she kept it up even now. It wasn't to hide her identity per se, Clark suspected that it was more for her own comfort than anything. "I will meditate further. Give me some time."

And Raven left the room, off to her chambers.

The room was silent still but for the clicking of Cyborg's console. It beeped and sang at him, though Clark didn't really know what he was doing.

"Diana, can I speak to you?" Clark asked.

She nodded and they stood up and walked away to the corner of the room; Superman was very aware of Bruce's eyes boring into the back of his skull, watching him. Once they were adequately out of the way on the other side of the giant chamber, Clark felt comfortable to talk, but it was Diana that spoke first.

"It is beautiful, isn't it?" She was looking out at the Earth, rotating so slowly. From above you could see all of it – the oceans that ran for miles, the green of below; and at night it was a sight. All the light of the world, streets lamps; each a family eating dinner, or a man making his way home from a long day at work. Suddenly, Clark wondered if the _Daily Planet _had been trying to contact him.

"It is."

"It's something worth saving, Kal. Every time. Despite… our losses." Clark had heard about the losses of Hawkgirl; Doctor Light had perished too. So much loss.

"I'm sorry I left. I didn't know that this was going to happen, I should have stayed –"

"I know," she said, interrupting. "Lex Luthor was the great adversary you ever faced, and continued to be. His is a loss to be remembered. All are, in a way. You knew Lex. He was once a friend to you, was he not?"

Clark thought hard on that. Once, they had spoken every day. He had been the type that would have given Clark a ride to school if he had missed the bus (not that he needed one). Lex had been all that, and a killer – evil that Clark Kent couldn't forgive, and yet still he mourned him.

"I'm not sure."

"We can't save everybody. I have learned that again and again. These are your people, you must save the ones you can."

He nodded. "How are you feeling, Diana?"

"Well," she said. "The gas was painful and shrieking but I am doing alright. You saved me, Kal, and for that I am thankful." She paused, looked away and then back to him. "Speak to Bruce." She placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled, and then she was gone. Before he moved he looked back to Earth. Below him the orbit had reached the other side of the world. He could see China, though he wasn't fully sure of its border – seeing the world without the lines of a map was something he would perhaps never fully adapt to. Lois was down there, in China. It was, for the most part, safe from Brainiac, but if he did not stop them she would meet the same fate. He wanted to contact her, to speak to her, and maybe he would. _If there is time. _

Wonder Woman was taking to Batman as he approached, but when she noticed she kissed him lightly on the cheek and left them to be. His eyes were all white in that black mask, unmoving. They looked at him, and they resented him. _I left when Earth needed me most. He has the right to be angry. _He decided that would be how he would start.

"You have the right to be angry, Bruce. I left when Earth's need was dire, but I didn't know."

"We did fine without you."

"And maybe you'll do better now that I'm back. An extra pair of hands."

Batman scowled and walked off. Clark was about to call him again when Raven came sprinting into the room.

"I found Flash, just briefly, and then he was torn away from me too. There's something magical blocking me, I can't find where anyone is because something has created a magical dead zone."

"Brainiac doesn't have that kind of power," Superman said.

Wonder Woman frowned. "No, but Circe does. I received reports from the Amazonians watching over Tartarus that she had left and her location hadn't been rediscovered. They have allied themselves with each other."

"Circe?" Starfire asked. She was new to the League, inducted when the Titans had temporarily disbanded to deal with all of the separate issues.

"Circe is a goddess-level sorceress," Wonder Woman explained. "She has control over dark magic. Raven, I need you to probe the world… reach out for her, search the plains of the world and the seas. You will know her foul scent."

Raven's eyes rolled back in her head and took on a blackness; purple shadows began to swirl around her, and then outside something caught Clark's eye. A purple shadow was surrounding Earth, swirling and descending into the atmosphere. It mingled with the clouds of earth. For a minute everyone watched, and then the purple smokes and cloud disappeared, and lightning fell around Raven; she was lifted up, and then full-force thrown into a wall. Superman didn't have time to react.

"RAVEN!" Wonder Woman ran to her and crouched down by her side. "Are you hurt?"

"No," she said, getting up, though it was clear her body ached. "Red hair, purple robes?"

"_Circe_."

"She has Zatanna, and Flash and Arrow too I think. She sensed me and – and… she's so powerful."

"Do you know where they were, Raven?" Clark asked, coming forward.

"I think so, but… only…" she stalled.

"What is it?"

"They're in Atlantis. I think Aquaman is dead."

Nobody spoke.

Some of the heroes went back to their seats and sat down, taking in the new information. _If the kingdom has fallen, it will mean Brainiac has all the might of Atlantis at his disposal, and yet we cannot let him collect it. _"We cannot let him collect the knowledge of Atlantis," Clark said. "We have to deal with this situation, and now. Brainiac will be there."

Batman came forward too. "We have to stage an assault. Call in the full League, call in all the superhumans you can contact."

The superheroes shuffled around, leaving the room, setting to work. The Watchtower was soon alive with new heroes; some that Clark had never met before, others that he hadn't seen for a long time. He asked to gather them in the Hall of Justice.

And they did; soon they were rallying in their dozens in the Hall. The Dark Knight, the Amazon Princess and the Man of Steel stood atop the balcony that overlooked it. _There's so many of them, and some of us will die. This is a suicide mission, and yet we are going. _

"We have a common enemy to unite against. Brainiac has destroyed our homes, he wants to do harm to our families, bottle our cities," Superman said. "We will not let him. The Justice League will not stand back to let him. Some of us will not succeed in this mission. It will be hard. All the might of Atlantis and of Brainiac against us, but we will triumph. We must make an end to him."

And then, in the distance, a lone hero that Superman could not make out started a chant. The Man of Tomorrow could hear it, though he doubted Wonder Woman and Batman would. _They will hear it soon. _

"Earth. Earth. Earth," he said, chanting.

And then the others joined in on the cry, the battle cry, the cry for victory, for their homeworld. The cry became a shout and a scream. Wonder Woman smiled at his side, and Batman did too.

_And now it comes to war. _


	20. GREEN ARROW III

**Author's Note: **I did not write this chapter, Gavin did, but I really enjoyed editing it, and you'll soon see why. I don't really need to say much, other than enjoy the chapter. Let me know what you liked in reviews, follow and favourite if you want to stick with _Justice League Divided _until the very end.

* * *

**GREEN ARROW**

* * *

"I cannot help but be curious as to how two members of the Justice League managed to infiltrate one of these ships."

Oliver was strapped to a table of black steel in the middle of a large room made of white stone; his bow and arrow was on a table nearby, but not near enough for him to grab them, even if he broke free. Above, a large glass ceiling was pressed on hard by the ocean's weight, and in it slumbered Brainiac's ships. "You know me, Circe," Oliver grunted as he strained against his restrains. "I'm just ever so crafty."

Circe walked past him, dark purple robes rippling and long red hair tumbling around her shoulders. Between her fingers electricity snapped and crackled. Her emerald eyes had given way to irises of pure white. "Not crafty enough to outrun the security teams, it appears."

"Would you believe me if I said it was all part of the plan?"

After deciding it was best to ignore him she asked, "Brainiac is very interested in the weaknesses of your fellow heroes. Your skinny friend proved to a little too tight lipped for his own good."

_If you've hurt Wally I'll rip your goddamn hair out, you homicidal bitch._ "Really?" Oliver asked calmly, hiding his bubbling anger.

"Really." Circe paced around the table, never taking her ghostly eyes off of him. "I think it's only fair now that I give you a turn, don't you think? I left you to last, you're quite unremarkable, you know. No abilities to speak of like your friends."

"I dunno about that, I take pride in my amazing beard."

Again she ignored him. "Because of this, your weakness is _very _simple one."

"Romantic comedies?"

A tangled web of lightning erupted from her fingers as she lifted up her hands, throwing them into her. It felt like tiny tongues of fire shredding at him, his flesh seemed to burn and cook. Every cell in his body screamed and prickled and screamed. When Circe stopped spots danced across his vision and his body ached, tired and sore. "Woooo!" Oliver laughed (with some difficulty). "That tickled!"

"Bite your tongue," she ordered.

"Bite my ass."

"Are you ever silent?"

"Every other Tuesday."

Circe flashed a wicked smile at him. He couldn't deny that she had an allure to her; Diana had told him once that it was all a part of her magic tricks. "So how did you end up with the Brain Trust?" Oliver asked. "What did he promise you? Money? Power? Free tech support?"

"Before he decided to invade this world he came to me with an offer," she said, moving around the table all the time. She was behind him now, and as his chair was raised slightly he couldn't see her. Her voice continued. "He promised me magic, pure magic – objects enchanted and the sort. How could I resist, I've always wanted to see this rock burn."

"You don't think he's just going to give you them, right?" Oliver asked, trying to delay her long enough for him to form a plan. _My arrows won't do jack against her, and she doesn't seem the type to fall for my charm._

"Of course not," she replied indignantly. "He'll try to stab me in the back, I have no doubt about it. It's likely he's sharpening his blade right now, but when he comes for me in the dark I will shred him."

Wonder Woman had told Oliver about Circe's schemes too. Circe was incredibly powerful, adept in all levels of magic, an opponent capable of standing against the might of an Amazonian princess, her schemes were often weak. She tried to plot and scheme her way through things, hungry for power, but they rarely worked; she inspired no real loyalty, she inspired nothing but hate, in fact. She tried to control by blackmail and threatening and seductions, and when others' lives were in danger they jumped her ship. Her magic could only get her so far; she was cruel and manipulative and very, very stupid. _And dangerous. _

"I'm rooting for you."

"You will root for no one, you will be seared and dead."

"Oh, but honey, I paid for front row seats!"

Just for that she gave him another blast of electricity. Admittedly it hurt _a lot_ more than the first one. "That is just a taste of what I have ready for you," she assured him. Reaching out she gently stroked his cheek. Her skin felt like ice against his own. "But if you tell me what I want to know then you won't have to experience it."

Oliver only smiled. "I guess I'm ready for my first order then."

* * *

Twelve rounds of grueling torture later and Green Arrow cried out, "Okay! Stop! _Stop!_"

"Finally you speak," Circe said as she relented. She moved in closer to him, her mouth practically against his cheek. "Tell me everything you know."

"I don't..." Oliver paused to catch his breath. _Torture really takes it out of you. I think it's finally time to let a dark secret about the Dark Knight slip. _"I don't know if it's a weakness... but... Batman is partial to a slice of chocolate cake."

The lightning she sent his way for that came in a constant stream that began to cook Green Arrow's skin; his body began to spasm and his muscles ached and screamed and he wanted so badly for it to stop. _Let it end, please make it stop_, he thought, but he wouldn't give the bitch the satisfaction.

She had stopped before at intervals to ask him to speak again, but now she kept going. The lightning lit the dim room, the water above making the purple light dance around. Just as he began to smell his badly burned flesh, she stopped. When he had mustered enough strength to open his eyes again he found Circe standing against the wall, watching him."I smell like bacon."

"Your will is impressive, Arrow," Circe admitted. "Perhaps you are not as ordinary as I once thought."

"Like I said... romantic comedies."

"I have all day, Green Arrow," she reminded him. "If you do not crack, your friend will. Tell me and you will be given a painless death, I promise."

"I've got all day, darling, and plenty more quips where these came from."

"Then I'd better get to work." There was no electricity this time; cold frost began to spread, he could feel it from her hands… the mist moved down, towards his wrists. And then she had him; the cold seeped into his skin and then his blood and he began to shake, his wrist began to tingle and the numbness felt like cold pain.

Just when he felt that he would never fire a bow again, there was a distant rumble that shook the very foundations of Atlantis. "What was that?" Circe asked as she withdrew her hand.

_Too much to hope the Krypton Boyscout got his act together? _Another low concussion quickly followed. The golden gilded door at the back of the room opened and one of Brainiac's drones entered the room. "The Justice League of America have infiltrated the Atlantis stronghold. You are ordered to secure–"

Circe slashed at the drone with her hand sending it reeling backwards, smashing hard against the wall. She clenched her fist and it began to rise. _I think she forgot that drones don't breathe. _

"The Intelligence anticipated you would react in such a manner," the drone replied in a deadpan.

"Yeah, she's a real charmer isn't she?" Oliver called out.

"Where are the attackers?" Circe asked the drone, dropping it to the floor.

"The Atlantean Archives," the drone said. "All forces are moving in to intercept them."

Both of them left, leaving the door wide open. Oliver strained against the metal clamps around his chest and limbs. _I hope someone finds me, _Oliver thought, _I'd hate to miss the battle of the century._


	21. BATMAN IV

**Author's Note: **A chapter written by Gavin. He struggled with this chapter a little, trying to manage the mix of tones. Regardless, I enjoyed editing it and I'm sure you'll enjoy reading it. This will, alas, be the last Batman chapter. We're into the very, very final stretch of the story now. There are perhaps two or three chapters left, so we hope you enjoy the remainder of the ride. It's been a lot of fun. Next up is a chapter from me, a **Wonder Woman **chapter. It'll be posted tomorrow. **Read and review, follow and favourite****! **The more feedback we get, the higher the chances are that we will start to discuss a sequel. We've thrown ideas around between each another, but it's all up in the air. Persuade us! ;)

* * *

**BATMAN**

* * *

The dead Atlanteans were scattered across the hall, left to rot wherever they fell. The bookshelves were ripped and torn apart, metal and wood and glass burned and charred and melted. _The Atlanteans deserved better. Aquaman deserved better. _Batman moved quickly down the ramp of the Star Labs shuttle that had smashed through the thick wall of glass at the back of the room. Some of the heroes had some reservations – as you would, drowning not being a particularly enviable death – but they were reassured by Cyborg that there were shields in place to stop the water. He'd helped design it.

Brainiac's troops streamed into the room almost on cue, firing their weapons in a red flurry, and over the sound of their guns blaring they commanded surrender. Black Canary and Superman joined up with Bruce as additional tremors from around indicated that the other ships had arrived in the adjacent halls forming the Archives of Atlantis.

"Are you ready, Batman?" Superman asked, looking at him. Though his durability could take shots from Brainiac's troops any day of the week, it didn't seem necessary. _They are terrible shots. _

"I'm always ready," Batman replied with his usual grim determination.

There was _thrift_, and in the blink of an eye the man of steel was gone, off into the midst of the drones. Black Canary and Batman followed at a slightly less impressive speed. He allowed his instincts to truly take hold of him, commanding his body into a fit of frenzy and furious battle rage. He twisted and spun out of the way of incoming fire and threw two explosive batarangs that tore apart a few drones from the inside, sending debris into the air.

Every now and then he caught sight of red and blue or heard a sickening crunch as Black Canary's fists slammed hard into metal, breaking it apart. She was always hesitant to use her screams – not just in front of other heroes, but in general she found it taxing and avoided them. _If she screams in here she might shatter all the glass and tear us to pieces. _

The drones were easily destroyed, the more challenging opposition no doubt retreating to defensible positions to protect their master, like a hive defending its queen. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Superman tear his arm out of the last drone's chest cavity and Batman checked his radio.

"This is Batman," he said into Watchtower's encrypted wavelength, walking back towards the shuttle. "We've cleared out enemies in our immediate area."

"Great work," Chloe Sullivan replied, her voice crackling with static. "Now I just need you to deploy the signal antenna."

"I'm on it," he said. He retrieved the small black box, brought it out and sat it in the centre of the room, amidst the crumpled drones. On its tip, a tiny red light began to blink slowly, and then faster, and then faster, and then it was green.

"And let there be Wi-Fi," Chloe cheered. Bruce could hear the smile in her voice. "Atlantis just lit up like a Christmas tree."

"Good. I want scans of Atlantis as a whole before we set out," Batman replied bluntly.

"Tell me when you find Oliver," Black Canary added, her voice hopeful.

"Will do."

"It is Diana," came another voice over the communicator. "Cyborg, Raven and I have cleared our entrance point."

Martian Manhunter was next to speak. "Green Lantern, Starfire and I have did the same with our own."

"Looks like the whole party's here," Superman murmured. "Batman, what's our next step?"

Clark was a leader in times of peace, when they needed a figure on the global stage he and Wonder Woman stood and took the flashes of the cameras and the handshakes. But when war fell on them, the man of steel let Bruce take charge. "Our main objective is finding Doomsday. Until he's neutralised with the collar, he poses the biggest threat."

Wonder Woman held the collar, even though Batman would have preferred to have kept it himself. _I can't risk it affecting Superman's abilities. _

"Circe is our next priority. The woman is mad, if she isn't dealt with quickly then she may have time to scheme some plan of low-cunning that makes this difficult, perhaps impossible. I want the final confrontation to be a joint group effort; he will not make it easy, but if Circe is elsewhere then we need to send a group after her."

Bruce knew that Diana would want to pursue Circe with Raven, and he wasn't inclined to disagree. _Fire with fire, magic with magic. _He'd fought the sorcerous bitch before, and she had been hell to defeat. Completely unhinged, Batman had been forced to retreat to rethink his strategies.

"Brainiac will come next," he assured them. "He'll be waiting in the throne room."

"What about Oliver?" Dinah pressed, angry that he was seemingly left from the plan.

"We don't know where Arrow or Flash are yet, so until we do we proceed with the plan."

"I won't leave him in a torture room or worse, Batman," she told him, heatedly. _This is a waste of time. _

"I don't want to leave him either Black Canary, but stopping the invasion has priority. If my place was switched with his you know he'd say the same."

"He'd do it with less of an attitude, though," she said, calming a little.

Superman laughed.

"Guys," Chloe interrupted over the communicator, "we may have a problem."

"What is it, Chloe?" Wonder Woman asked.

"If these scans are accurate then Brainiac's troops are moving some _heavy_ ordinance into the corridors that lead from the archives into the rest of Atlantis. It looks like they're trying to seal you in."

"If those bombs detonate our attack will be stopped dead, and so we will," Batman said, rushing to the nearest exit. "Watchtower, upload a map of Atlantis to my cowl and pinpoint the bomb's locations. Everyone get to the nearest bomb site and stop them from detonating."

Clark nodded and disappeared in a flash down the corridor.

"Batman, I found Flash and Arrow," Chloe said. "They aren't that far from you."

"Tell us where, Watchtower," Black Canary said.

"No," Batman said firmly. "We stick with the current plan."

"I'm not asking, Bruce."

"They can wait," Batman snapped. "The explosives are going to blow a hole in Atlantis that will drown them anyway. _Think._"

"Free them, Batman," Diana said. "We can handle the bombs whilst you rescue them."

"It will be difficult to face them alone, Diana, and –"

"Alone? I won't be alone, Bruce. I have the full force of the Justice League with me, with more heroes coming. I am not alone."

"I don't want to leave this fight."

"Bruce, just go."

With dislike thick on his face and he sighed. "Watchtower, where are they?"

* * *

Cables thick as a man's arm ran across the floor of the corridor, each travelling up the same direction. _According to the scans they're channelling huge amounts of energy, but what for? For Brainiac? His true form is usually wired into a giant computer, perhaps he has a similar device in the throne room?_

Whatever the reason, it wasn't important for now. Batman's focus for now was saving Green Arrow and Flash, wherever they were.

The corridor forked both ways at one end, the wires travelling the right hand side direction.

For the past few minutes, Chloe had been mimicking the voice of a GPS.

"In seven metres," she said in the mock tone, "please take the next left." The tone halted in a minute. "They are in one of the doors. I can't tell which one, Brainiac is trying to reroute my systems."

Black Canary nodded starkly and rushed on ahead.

"DINAH!" Batman called.

All along the corridor heavy Brainiac forces lumbered out into the open, raising their weapons and unleashing all they head. Streaks of red moved towards Black Canary, and Batman was so sure that she was to die there and then… and then she opened her mouth and drew in air, and the world seemed to slow. The ferocious scream that she unleashed made Batman grab his ears and the lights all the way down the corridor blink and flash. The shockwave tore down the corridor, sweeping up troops and laser bullets like leaves in the wind, sending cracks fissuring across the floor and surfaces. At the far side of the corridor where glass looked out into the deep sea, it cracked – but no more.

In the silence that followed, a delighted voice came from one of the rooms. "Is that you, honey?"

"_Oliver_," she cried, out of breath and tired. "I'm coming!"

"Bring help!"

"She's got me," Batman said, catching up with Canary.

There was a pause. "Good to go."

The drones were returning steadily to their feet as Batman drew his batclaw and fired it into the nearest drone. He sped towards the target and collided with it shoulder-first and then rolled to his feet. Black Canary was hot on his heels, fly-kicking and beating down any drone that strayed into her path. Batman tossed electrified batarangs, each finding their marks in the eye sockets of separate drones as they trembled and shuddered. He broke anothers arm and drove its face hard into a wall, the metal skull breaking. The drones were beaten down and Batman rushed into a nearby room, leaving Dinah to dispatch with the rest.

On the table was Oliver, or a version of him. His skin was puffy and red, blistered. _Those are burns,_ he thought. His green leathered costume had melted in parts.

"Hey Bats," he grunted, greeting him. "Don't mind the smell, it's just my charred flesh."

"Hold on, I'll get you out," Batman said, moving to work on the restraints.

"You've met Circe, right?" Oliver asked. "Red hair, cold eyes, bit of a god complex?"

Bruce only grunted in reply. His lively green eyes had sunk deep into his skull, which seemed to form his voice. His beard was patched and greyed. Oliver Queen seemed to have aged twenty years. _Maybe a world without magic wouldn't be so bad after all_, he thought. _But then again, they'd probably just use a flamethrower instead. _

"Where's Wally?"

"Well, on page thirty he's behind the carousel," Oliver said with a tired sigh, "but I can never find him on page twenty-four. Damn astronauts, why does your space station have so many windows?"

"Stow the sense of humour, Oliver."

"I will when you buy one."

Bruce cracked open the restraint on his right leg and then got to work on his right arm. "I thought you carried a solution for every situation on that belt?" Oliver laughed. "Did you leave the Bat-bobbypin at home – hey, look out!"

A large metal hand clamped down on Batman's shoulder. "You will cease and desist this escape attempt," the large, bulky drone ordered as it hurled Batman across the room. He was taken by surprise and didn't have the time to compose himself, so he crashed and slid down the wall. "You will surrender to –"

Apparently Bruce had loosened the restraint enough just enough for Oliver to rip his arm free of its hold. He slammed his burned and bruised fist into the drone's face.

Batman pushed himself up from the ground. _You're going to regret not just shooting me in the head from behind. _He lunged at the drone, knocking it to the floor. One of the drone's iron knuckles battered against Batman's jaw as they tangled, blood welling in his mouth. He drove his elbow into the drone's skull and jumped back, drawing a stun gun from his belt. With great difficulty he drove it into the robot's face and pulled the trigger. It jerked and twitched uncontrollably. Yet, a shaking arm lifted and a wrist-mounted rifle pointed at Batman's face.

An arrow knocked the gun off-target, making it fire into a wall. Another pieced its glowing yellow eyes, making it collapse to the floor, just useless metal and flashing lights again. Before it turned to dead weight, Batman pushed himself away from it. Oliver walked over to him, hood back up, quiver over his shoulder and bow in hand.

"The belt saves the day again," he said and helped Bruce to his feet.

"I'm glad your aim hasn't suffered." He spat out some blood from his mouth.

"What can I say? When you're good, you're actually really good. Probably great. The best."

Flash appeared in the room, suit torn and battered. His skin was visible and his mask had been ripped from his head. _It doesn't matter; Brainiac knows must of our identities anyway. _

"Oliver, you're alive!" he said.

"Don't sound so surprised."

"Oliver!" Black Canary said as she rushed into the room.

The two of them embraced deeply and then kissed, leaving Batman and Flash to stand awkwardly at the side.

"Okay," Flash said when the moment had ended – though it seemed at the time like it wasn't ever going to. "Now that we are a family again, what now?"

"There is a bomb about to go off, a series of them. They'll seal us off from the rest of Atlantis," Batman explained as he walked out the door. "The rest of the league are dealing with it now, but they could always use more help."

"I'm gone for, like, an _hour _– two hours max – and _this _happens?"

"Come on," Batman said sharply, unwilling to meet the coming fight.

"Just for the record," Bruce heard Wally say quietly behind his back, "he is terrifying."

"Yeah," Bruce said loudly, letting them know he heard. "That's the point."


	22. WONDER WOMAN III

**Author's Note: **I'm so sorry about the delay guys. My laptop broke and I had to go buy a new one today and then completely restart the chapter. This, among other things, is the reason it was so late in being released. However, some of those "other things" are _great news_. Gavin and I think we've cracked the idea for the sequel. There were threads of it laced in both our chapters all the way through, though we weren't necessarily aware of each other's intentions. We spoke at some length about our ideas and it looks like they're now going to come to fruition. The _Justice League Divided_ sequel **is a go. **More information will come when we post the epilogue for _Justice League Divided_, which shouldn't be too long now. There are two true point-of-view chapters left and then the epilogue. The next chapter will be a **Green Arrow **chapter written by Gavin, and the one following will be authored by me, but I won't tell you who yet. As for the epilogue, it'll be a new character. The epilogue will set up the chess pieces for the next book, as will the next few chapters in general. I look forward to hearing your opinions. Please, review this chapter and let us know how you feel about it. This one has some pretty major developments. MAJOR.

* * *

**WONDER WOMAN**

* * *

They mowed down wave after wave of enemy, laying waste to any in their path. At her side Raven's magic swelled in purple shadow and black smoke, surrounding enemies, lifting them, crushing them against the walls of Atlantis. Bullets rained from behind them, carefully aimed – blue lasers, beams of plasma coated with wild tongues of electricity caused drones to lose themselves, twitching and convulsing before the inevitable explosion. Diana of Themyscria had simpler tastes.

She drove her fists into their chests and ripped their inner circuitry out; lifted them by the neck and thrust them into other, sending them falling into crumpled heaps like robotic dominoes. They commanded her stop, surrender, and Wonder Woman ignored them. Their lasers came at her and she sent them straight back with her bracelets, causing them to jerk with the damage. _Is there no end to these waves? _She knew her time was limited; Brainiac's collective intelligence was commanding them to hold the small division of the League where they were, not to focus on attempts to kill them. Such savagery from these machines only led to their destruction far quicker, for their foolishness.

"The drones aren't behaving as foolishly as normal," Raven observed amidst the heat of battle, as if hearing Wonder Woman's very thoughts. "We should push on, against their wishes. It is clear that they wish us to stay here and do nothing." Dark light twinkled around her hands as she slammed two together, and then Raven seemed to disappear into her own shadow, appearing behind a group of drones. She slashed at them with her hands and smoke fell on them.

Diana flew towards her and trampled on the drones Raven held down.

"They'll overwhelm us," Cyborg said, firing a rocket into a group of heavy drones.

"They will try," Diana added.

The drones fell on them, and the Justice League members returned their attacks in kind. Diana of Themyscria slashed them with her golden sword (cutting one in half, sending sparks flying) and shoved it through another's head. She twisted her sword inside. To her side another came at her, a wrist-mounted gun firing at her. She blocked them with her shield, hoping that some would reflect towards it, but it didn't. She slammed the wonder shield into its body, lifting it up and then forcing it to the wall, crushing it between her superhuman strength and the glittering wall.

When it dropped to the floor and it turned she saw Cyborg had hacked into a single drone and it was fighting its steel brothers. They were confused at first, their aiming mechanisms disallowing them from firing at their own. For a moment Diana had thought Cyborg had unlocked the key to defeating them, but their eyes began to glow a deep green and they became enraged, possessed, firing at anything in their way. They laid their former ally down to a melting, smoked waste and fought on, unleashing a torrent of red fire at the league members. Wonder Woman lifted her shield, but the attacks never came. A wall of black shadow and smoke stood between them, curtaining their attacks and them from view.

"Cyborg, do you have the location of the bomb?" Wonder Woman asked.

Raven held her hands still; her concentration set on holding the shadow barrier. It was not taking a toll on her, it seemed. _But it will when they start to attack it_, Wonder Woman thought miserably.

"Yes. It's along the corridor that Raven is blocking."

"Is there an alternate route? We have little time."

"I'm not sure." The light in front of his eyes flashed and moved through blueprints; Wonder Woman could see them projected small on the lens of his eye visor. "Yes, and –" He paused.

"It's just – I've found Zatanna, only there's something wrong. The live feeds are down, but – I can hear her."

"What do you hear?"

"She's screaming, Diana."

"Raven, let down the barrier," Wonder Woman commanded and drew her sword.

When the smoke unravelled and fell to the floor in a heap, drifting away, Wonder Woman flew at them. She slashed and parried and tore them apart, ripping them as hard as she could. Bullets took her in the back, burning her, but she ignored them. She could hear the whisper of smoke and the smash of bullets, her allies fighting at her side. There were so many of them – a dozen, maybe two dozen. But they fought on, each body adding to the pile.

They moved their way on through the corridor, but more were approaching… marching in groups of four.

"Fuck this," she heard Cyborg mutter. There was a clank and Wonder Woman tried to look around. "Diana, _move_!"

Diana did as he said; she flew, as fast as she could, back to him, and she felt the heat of a laser rush past her. From the hollow in his chest Cyborg unleashed a devastating laser that spread out, disintegrating the robots coming on. When it stopped Cyborg took some deep breaths, exhausted.

"You did well. We must move on," she said.

Raven nodded and placed her hand on Cyborg's shoulder. "Do you need assistance? I could generate a field for you –"

"No, you need me."

She did not argue, as they knew it was true. This could not be won without Cyborg. Soon their nearest bomb would detonate, they were rigging it as they spoke. The group moved on down the corridor, sprinting as fast as they could.

"That way," Cyborg said when they reached a three-way split. He pointed down the left direction. It was bare and there was no one guarding it.

"It doesn't look to be highly guarded," Wonder Woman said, puzzled. _Is this a trap set by Brainiac, waiting for the right moment to spring?_

"That's because it's not the bomb. I'll deal with that – you have to get Zatanna."

"The bomb is the objective," Raven started, "you heard Batman's directions."

"And I can deal with that. As long as I have sight on it, I can disarm it. Don't worry about me, but you must get her. I don't know what they're doing to her… you'd think that when all hell is breaking loose in an undersea kingdom they'd direct their forces towards the invaders, towards us, but they're still torturing her. I don't know what it is. You have to free her, and she can join the fight."

Wonder Woman doubted that she could join the fight. _If she'd been tortured by Circe then she'll be weak, almost crippled, her magic drained. We will have to keep her safe and she will be a distraction in the fight. _"All right," she agreed. "We will find Zatanna, but she can play no part in the fight. She will be heavily injured, we cannot expect more of her. Our duty is to keep her _safe_."

Cyborg nodded. "Now go!"

Wonder Woman lifted off the ground a little and began to move down the corridor, Raven's footfalls falling behind her quickly. She slowed her pace slightly; she may need Raven's assistance to free her if there were many of Brainiac's drones inside.

"They may use her against her, a hostage," Wonder Woman said.

"Then what do we do?"

"Do you have any abilities that could cloud the reasoning, slow their thought processes?"

Raven thought a moment. "It's not impossible, but if there's too many of them… no, I won't be able to."

"Pray to Athena Above that it does not come to that, Raven," she said, and they made their way down the corridor.

At the end they found the black glass door, tinted on the other side. "Can you sense what is on the other side, Raven?"

Raven shook her head. "No, I sense nothing on the other side."

_I know this to be untrue_, she thought ruefully. _I can feel something, throbbing on the other side of the door. _Wonder Woman's hope was that it was Zatanna. When they threw the doors apart, they found that was half story.

On a metal slab was Zatanna, her costume ripped and her face black, blue and bloody. Her lips was swollen and all up her arms were burns, scars from torture. When the doors coughed loudly to announce themselves open, she didn't seem to have the energy to turn to see them. But Circe did, and she turned.

"I wondered if we would face one another, Diana," the woman said. Her very voice was poison to Wonder Woman's ears; this hell sorceress, goddess of blood and death, deserved death. The crimes for killing – much less killing a goddess – were unspeakable.

"Circe, let her go." Her words were solemn and declarative; she drew her own sword. "By the might of Athena, I warn you."

"You warn _me_? Hold your tongue, princess – you walk beside a god. You should bow before me – you, and your demon bitch, and this mere magician too." A sword of electric tongues formed in Circe's hand and, before Wonder Woman could react, she drew it fast across Zatanna's exposed upper arm. She cried out in agony, blood trickling down her arm and falling to the floor. The screams made Diana's blood run cold, and Zatanna began to cry quietly.

_I don't understand, _Wonder Woman thought. The woman that stood before her was Circe, a cruel lunatic, but there was no purpose to what she was doing. None at all. Why would Brainiac have her torture Zatanna? _What does he need to know? _

"Why are you doing this, Circe? If Brainiac won your allegiance by promising –"

Circe let out a harsh laugh. "Brainiac! He's a machine, Diana. I owe my allegiance to no machine. I serve no one – my aims are my own."

"Then why?"

"I have seen the future, Diana! Oh, yes. Things that have occurred, and things that have not yet come to pass. I saw the slain king of Atlantis and it was done at my bidding. I saw this very battle, all the players taking their place on the stage... and I saw darkness, Amazon. I saw great clouds that made my body shiver..."

The goddess seemed to give some pause at this. Her eyes seemed to waver somewhere else. Diana almost had time to consider an ambush, but she thought better of it. Circe had range; she would win here if Diana was not careful.

"I saw the fall of heroes, Diana. I saw a bat broken by the man who laughs. I saw Superman fall to his true, fated nemesis."

"We will defeat Brainiac, Circe."

She laughed. "You're naive to think the machine is his final test. I saw trials ahead for all of you. You will not all survive."

"What did you see of me, Circe?"

Her red lips moved into a smile, though her eyes were unchanged; she was beautiful. Diana noticed it most when she smiled. Evil had a face, and that face was beautiful. "I saw you kneeling before me. I was so tall, Diana. Above the clouds themselves. I was draped in gold all over. Beautiful. My very skin seemed to shine with it. You lay before me... and you begged for forgiveness."

Wonder Woman shook her head. "I will never bow before you, Circe."

Her smile turned to a look of scorn and wrath. "And you shall not be forgiven."

Circe screamed and fell on them; tangles of lightning roped in Raven and darted at Wonder Woman. Her shield took the most of it, growing hot and steaming. Fire and ice skirted along the floor, great winds filling the room. Circe grew taller, flying. Water dripped into the room from nowhere.

Shadows fell on Circe and she shredded them with forces, black and red merges into shaped and tore at them. Raven screamed and fought on. A great, terrible wind fell on Wonder Woman, pushing her back. Her shield was poised against the wind, her feet scraping the concrete from the ground. The muscles of her legs ached. Behind her shield she heard the cold high laugh of Circe, and the flash of lightning all around, and Zatanna screamed again. _She's still toying with her. She's torturing her. She's killing her. She's killing her. _

"**BOW TO ME, PRINCESS!" **

A whirl of black and purple at her side and she turned to see Raven's head dashed hard against a glass wall. The wind seemed stopped abruptly but Wonder Woman could still hear it… behind Circe. She glanced outside her shield and saw the glass looking out into the ocean. Cracks began to spindle out like webs, slowly they snapped. The high crash of it breaking merged with her deranged laughter. She ran down towards Raven and stood above her. The glass crashed all around her, smashing hard against her shield. Loose pieces slashed her legs, cutting her; blood leaking from her. _The poisonous gargoyle…!_

_Has this lunacy no end?! _The cries from Zatanna on the other end. _No, the glass is shredding her. She's dying. _With all of her bravery and might, Wonder Woman gripped her shield tight, and then she threw it hard. It span through the air ahead of her and the glass kept coming towards her; they slit her there and here, and her legs were soon soaked in her own blood. They buckled and she fell, then began to fly. As she fell, blood dripped down her thighs.

Zatanna's costume was worse than it had been before, and where it was not black and covered it was red, and where the glass had torn it the red was thicker, sometimes black. But her chest rose and fell slowly. She would be all right for now. There was a hard smash as the shield took Circe in the face and she tumbled, tangling in her own cloak. Wonder Woman moved over to her and drew her sword, placing the blade against her neck.

Circe's hand flew up and Diana caught it. Her skin seemed to tingle with all that Circe had channelled through her. Her green eyes looked up at the princess and they hated. And Diana's hated back.

"No more, Circe. It is over."

"It is not over, Diana." The glint of purple in the distance reflected off the forcefield stopping the water flowing into the room. Wonder Woman could see the dagger of electric floating of Zatanna's body. "I have bound her. She cannot speak her magic, and her wrists are restrained. Let me leave, or I will cut her throat."

Wonder Woman's hand began to tremble, the one holding the sword. The blade edge twitched against Circe's throat and cut her a little, though no blood came out. Wonder Woman gasped when she saw what she had done and tried to restrain her hand more. _I cannot leave her or we will fail. Can Raven come to my aid? _

But Raven could not; she was crumpled and sore and unconscious on the other side of the room, and Diana knew that. Zatanna moaned in the background, in clear prickling agony. Her wounds in the open air, she needed aid or she would die from some infection. In front of Diana's face Circe's red lips smirked. _She thinks that she has defeated me_, Wonder Woman thought. She was covered in blood and her own open wounds screamed. They would take some more time to heal – but it was not now.

"Let me go now, Diana. I will kill her. I will slit her dead."

Wonder Woman's hand began to twitch more when she realised that she had to do it. There was nothing else she could do, or her friends would face more pain. It was for her friends and for Earth and for everything else that existed. _Athena save me. _

She slit Circe's throat.


	23. GREEN ARROW IV

**Author's Note: **And here culminates the _Battle of Atlantis. _I don't want to say anything, but there is one chapter to go, and then the Epilogue. And that will conclude the story of _Justice League Divided_, and serve as the opening gambit of a much bigger story. Enjoy the chapter.

* * *

**GREEN ARROW**

* * *

The bodies of fallen soldiers and ruined machines littered the corridor that led to the closed door of the Throne Room. There was blood everywhere, the floor and the walls were painted red; Atlanteans whose wounds had been opened across their abdomens and their insides tumbled out. At the foot of the massive golden doors Superman hovered in silence with Batman not far away from him. Other heroes surrounded the area too – Cyborg, the Flash, Green Arrow, Starfire and Martian Manhunter. And behind them were other heroes, garbed in all the colours of the rainbow. Red was a popular colour, Oliver Queen noted. Many had fallen in the battle, but more survived, and they would need every last hero. Oliver wondered what lurked beyond the doors, waiting for them. _Apart from Doctor Fate and Supergirl, I don't recognise any of them. So many new faces, so little will see the surface again._

"Wonder Woman?" Cyborg repeated. "Wonder Woman, do you read me?"

"I don't think she's going to pick up," Lantern muttered, his arms crossed and eyes looking over the bodies of the dead. Arrow knew Lantern's past involved the army somehow, quietly he wondered how John was dealing with it all. _The Justice League isn't meant to fight wars like this. _

"It'll take more than Circe to stop her and Raven," Batman said. "She'll be here."

"Let's hope you're right," Flash muttered as he hoped from one foot to another. "Without that control collar things are gonna get dicey _real_ fast."

"Think it's too late for that," Green Arrow replied.

Since Wonder Woman and Raven had parted from Cyborg, there had been only the cool static of radio silence from both of them. _I hope they can handle that bitch_, Green Arrow thought. He'd had minimal interaction with Circe in the past, and even so he knew her to be a particularly nasty piece of work. Once, long ago, she'd turned Superman into a rabbit. _I'll admit, that was pretty funny. _

Batman stared down the corridor, past the long line of heroes. Even with his usual smouldering rage they sensed something had changed and parted to let him see the full length of the corridor. His eyes stayed there for what seemed like a lifetime, and then he turned to Superman. "Open the door, Clark."

Clark sighed and nodded grimly, placing one hand on the door. "Wait," Doctor Fate suddenly spoke up. "I'm advised that they will be arriving shortly. If we enter the throne room unprepared, we will be quelled. There's something dark in that room."

"Who are we to argue with Fate?" Oliver asked with a shrug.

"Hun," Black Canary said, her hand appearing on his shoulder, "shut up."

They waited, and just when it seemed like all hope was lost, they saw them. Wonder Woman came first, hovering above the ground; her costume seemed even redder in the distance. Raven followed her, limping badly. It was when they were slightly closer that Arrow realised they were covered in blood. "Diana, Raven," Martian Manhunter spoke up when they came within ear shot. "Are either of you injured?"

As she came closer Arrow realised the awful truth, saw it before his own eyes. Her legs were slit open badly, her own blood clung to her. There was a light spray of blood on her face too, blood that – Oliver reckoned – did not come from Wonder Woman herself. _I'm surprised she's still conscious with injuries like that_. "Zatanna has been returned to one of the S.T.A.R Lab shuttles." Raven announced, "She will not be joining us; this is no longer her fight."

"What about Circe?" Superman asked. "Has she been apprehended?"

The mention of her name seemed to make Diana go rigid. "We'll discuss her later."

"What do you-?"

"Clark," Raven said, conclusively. "Let us be done with this." Her voice was not a question; it was spoke with the cool assertion of a person who knew what they wanted, and that was the end of the topic.

_What the hell is going on here? _Thoughts ran through Oliver's head, most of them discarded quickly. _No, _he told himself.

"Do you still have the collar?" Batman asked Diana.

It seemed like he'd broken her out of a daze; she blinked with surprise and looked on him as though he was a stranger. For a few seconds everyone looked at her and she just looked at Batman, and then she produced the collar, giving it to him. Arrow noticed Superman took a few steps back. The collar's affects required Superman to be in direct contact with the kryptonite, but Oliver would have been extra cautious too.

The question hung in the air like a fell stench; someone wanted to tell Diana she could leave, return to the shuttle. Something was playing on her mind and it wouldn't leave, but the team couldn't afford to lose her. She was one of the team's strongest, and their situation was as delicate as a house of cards.

A shared look went between the Justice League's core members, and then a nod. Superman's fist clenched and he slammed it down hard on the door; it resounded, a thudding knock. _It begins. _His fist came down once more and the door cracked and burst apart, sending rock cascading through the room. Led by Superman and Batman, the Justice League followed.

In the background Oliver saw Doomsday, and Brainiac standing aside the throne of Atlantis too, but it was not that his eyes fell on. A figure in the middle of the room, blonde hair and definitive suit. His back faced them, but they knew the man, if not from the hair or the costume, then from the trident he clutched in his hand.

Foolishly, Arrow ran out. "Orin," he called. "Aquaman!"

There was a delay, and Oliver did not register that his flesh when he turned was grey and dead until after the strident struck him across the face and he slugged hard into a glass wall, sliding down it. _He makes us fight our friend, our ally._

There was a deep moment of sigh, and then the man of steel stood forward. "I am sorry," he said; the beams flew from his eyes and burned deep into Aquaman's corpse. The corpse did not scream, only smouldered and smoked. The trident span in his hand and, from somewhere above, waters erupted, taking Superman unawares and folding him under it. The ashen ruin of Aquaman's chest smoked, but no fire burned from it. The water dissipated and seem to be absorbed into the floor.

From the ground Superman rose up, flying, and then he and Aquaman's body were in combat. Wonder Woman moved to assist, but Batman put his hand out, stopped her. Behind the core Justice League, the expanded roster of heroes formed up and the door, flooding into the room. They all watched the combat.

They blocked and fought for so long, their moves speeding at an incomprehensible speed; they were just colours to Arrow, his eyes could not track their moves, as much as he tried to. Superman grabbed the body by the neck and slammed it into the floor, and then the beams came again, boring deep into Aquaman's head. The body quivered and shook for a few moments, and then it was still.

Brainiac stood to the right of the throne of Atlantis, and Doomsday at his side. Behind them, a great window that looked out over the ocean. There was nothing, the waters were vacant. Superman stepped away from Aquaman, and Batman took a step forward too.

"This ends now, Brainiac," Superman said. "You will not escape this. You know this."

Brainiac looked much like a human atop the gold-gilded steps. Apart from his eyes; there was no white nor any other colour to those eyes. Green, bright green. His mouth smiled but his eyes were unchanged; merely thoughtful. He inclined his head in a nod. "Perhaps you are correct, Kal-El. I see little way for my escape to manifest."

"Then give yourself up now. We will take you into custody."

"And where will I go? To the Phantom Zone?"

Superman shook his head. "No. The last time you were in the Phantom Zone, you unleashed hell inside it. The criminals inside do not deserve to suffer at your hand. Manhunter and Cyborg completed a prison on Mars where you will serve out your sentence."

"My _sentence_? And how long will that be?" Brainiac began to walk down the steps, slowly.

"Until I find a way to shut you down."

The machine made a few disapproving sounds. "No, no. This doesn't seem _advantageous _to me. How did you shut down the teleporters?"

Cyborg spoke before any of the others could. "With help from the outside. You ain't going anywhere, so just do as you're damn told and give up, machine."

Brainiac's eyes flared on Cyborg. Arrow got to his feet then and moved over, standing beside Wonder Woman. "You _dare_," Brainiac said. "You're as much machine as I am." His hand stroked once in the general direction of Cyborg and his suit began to twitch with electricity, a current overloading the systems. He began to scream, being electrified from the inside. "Doomsday –"

"You cannot defeat us, Brainiac," Batman interrupted.

That gave Brainiac pause for a moment. "_Doomsday_," he began again, "kill as many as you can."

The beast, stone made flesh, lunged forward, fist stretched back. It roared as it fell down, and Superman lifted his arm to defend itself and then flew forward, the resulting clash blowing both of them apart. "_Go_," Batman said. Turrets appeared, sliding out from hidden panels. Heroes dived left and right, a flurry. Arrow couldn't see what the others were doing, only that he had to run to escape fire. The line of plasma turret fire followed him. _What I'd give for super speed. _As he sprinted he reached into his quiver for a trick arrow and loosed it in the general direction of the turret – there was no time to aim. Surely enough, it struck the turret true and sent it combusting apart. Other heroes were having the same idea – fire, ice, lightning, telekinesis, strength and all manners of things beat on the turrets. Some heroes tried to aid Superman with the battle against Doomsday and were slapped aside by the monster, tumbling and crunching away like rag dolls. One made a move for Brainiac.

It almost looked like Brainiac was powerless, but when the flying hero made the final stretch to uppercut the machine in flight, tendrils made of some silver liquid erupted from his chest with a hideous screech; they grab the arm of the hero and broke it, and then one of the tendrils flickered up and slid across the heroes throat.

"Oliver!" Black Canary flipped over a turret, but the red beams followed on her heels. She tried to dive once more out of the way, but the beam passed through the bottom of her foot and she tumbled, writhing in the air. He fired arrows into the turret – one, two, three. They all exploded and he ran over to her. There were others turrets and as he ran he fired at them too. He was running out of arrows.

"Are you alright?" he asked, helping her to her feet. Around them chaos reigned.

"No, I think it's ripped my ankle apart. I can't walk."

"Get back to the shuttle," he commanded. "NOW!"

For half a second it seemed as if she might refuse, but if she didn't then she would die.

And then, before either of them could react, a scream rang out – Flash. He was looking directly at them, and he saw the scene unfold in practical slow motion. He sprinted over, but it wasn't time enough. Doctor Fate's eyes were on them too. Doomsday took a hard punch from Superman and fell back; the beast reached out for something to throw and found only Dinah Lance's head; he squeezed at the skull and it broke and shattered. Green Arrow tried to save her but she was gone, thrown across the room. Superman screamed and grabbed her mid-throw, careful with her. He set her down and then flew at Doomsday, punching him into the floor. Green Arrow recoiled, confused, unsure. He ran over to her body, loosing arrows at the nearby turrets.

He lifted her body and took her to the side of the room. Behind him explosions and shrieks continues, thunderous bangs from the battle that continued on. Brainiac stood watching him, though he didn't know that. All he could do was try and remember Dinah Lance's face. Not this bloody, crushed mess, so beyond repair that it wasn't leaky blood. Her nose was ruined and her jaw merged with her upper neck. Green Arrow's heart began to pump.

Batman was on the other side of the room, aiding a hero who had fallen. Oliver Queen sprinted towards him, and flipped by him, swiping the collar. Turrets fired at him and he paid them no heed, other heroes dealt with him. Some paused to look at him, others, long lost just like Dinah, must have looked on from Somewhere. "Fuck you, you piece of shit," he said, running up Doomsday's back. He slid the collar on and locked it tight, the nails ripping into Doomsday's thick, rocky skin. The creature went rigid and perhaps Brainiac called out in anger from the other end of the great hall, but all Oliver could do was beat it. Punch and slam it hard, his fingers breaking, punching it to no effect. Arms of blue, flying, surrounded him and took him off Doomsday.

"Arrow," Superman said from behind him. "Arrow." They floated back down to the ground where Wonder Woman took him by the shoulder. Superman tore the cape from his back and gave it to Diana; they walked over to her, Wonder Woman and Oliver, and she laid the cape over her ruined face and body. Ollie cried.

"This is what you did," Oliver heard Superman say. "Not just Black Canary, but all of them. This room has more corpses than bodies."

"I will escape from this prison, Kal-El. No fortress can hold me."

"We'll see."

Brainiac made a grunting sound as Superman grabbed him by the back of the neck, and then he flew through the glass roof. The waters were held back, as always, by the forcefields. All the weight of the ocean on the it, and it can hold it.

_I hope I am as strong as the forcefield is, Dinah, _he thought, looking down at the red cape. _I don't think I will be. _

Martian Manhunter suspended all the bodies telekinetically and they carried them through the corridors of Atlantis, back to the Archives where the ships were. They loaded the bodies onto the ships first and sent them off, waiting for them to come back. Oliver sat alone by the great glass, looking out. He'd sustained burn and cuts from the battle, but it was nothing compared to the cost others had suffered. All he could think was that Brainiac would live on. _Not if I can find a way to kill him. I'll destroy him. Just like he destroyed my life. My future. _Revenge, and the face of his wife.

Dinah's face.

Dinah's face.

Dinah's face.

He tried to push it out of his mind, but all that came out were tears and more tears. The arms of Wonder Woman wrapped around him, and Batman's hand upon his shoulder too. Bruce's only lingered for a minute, and then he left. Wonder Woman held him for a long time, until the shuttle came to take them away.

But Green Arrow wasn't going away. Not really. Oliver knew, for as long as he lived, his mind would be here in Atlantis, with ghosts and with demons.


	24. SUPERMAN IV

**Author's Note:** Don't forget to review! The end is nigh...

* * *

**SUPERMAN**

* * *

Repairing the costumes was all they could truly manage. In dashing reds and greens, flashy blues and deep gold they stood united as one. It was asked by the press that the core members of the Justice League be present, and so here they were in the Justice League's main transport, making their way down from Watchtower. Cyborg was asked to attend, but he opted to stay in Watchtower. The news of Zatanna's torture was disturbing, but the reasons for it were even more so – she had been interrogated on the internal structure and security defences of the Watchtower. _And now Circe is gone, so the threat is gone. Still, it doesn't hurt to be careful. _It was Cyborg's own request, and the other members of the League honoured and supported it.

Oliver had asked that he not attend the conference, and everyone had agreed that maybe it was for the best. It had been five days since the Battle of Atlantis, and the wound of Black Canary's loss was still fresh, still painful. _The League will need time to heal, _Superman thought. _We all need time to heal. _

The instructions for the conference were clear; when the superheroes left the ship there was to be silence from the press. At the end there would be time for questions, after Superman had stopped speaking. The city was reeling from the invasion of Metropolis still, and he wanted his words to be truly heard by the people. For the first time in what felt like thousands of years, Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne agreed on something.

The transport landed and the rear opened, light flooding into the aircraft. Together, the Justice League walked down the ramp, greeted only be silence. The media were at the front – in the crowd with her microphone Clark spied Lois Lane, who flashed a wink at him. He tried to conceal a smile. Superman was in the middle, at the microphone. To his left, Batman and his right, Flash. Green Lantern and Martian Manhunter were at the other ends. Out of chance, Superman noticed the giant mount of images mounted on the walls of the Hall of Justice; images of all the heroes that had been lost in the fight. _There are so many of them… but this war is over. The war is done. They can be at rest now._

Superman looked out over to the crowd, and sneaked another small look at Lois before he continued. "These have been some of the darkest days that we have ever faced. Not just as a country, but as a world. But the darkness has an end. That end is now. The fighting is over, Brainiac's forces have been dismantled and you have nothing to fear from it anymore. He has been apprehended in a fortress, the location of which we shall not make public. It's out contention that this should not happen again, and if his coordinates were known, he would be a target from other particulars."

He rested both of hands against the stand of the microphone, holding him up. "Lives have been lost. Too many. I heard this morning that the estimates for lives in Metropolis were over two hundred thousand, and worldwide well into the tens of millions. These numbers… shock me, and sadden me. We all wish this could never have happened. Steps are being taken to create a force to combat such situations, though I do not feel that this is going to become a problem; in the years of heroes, never in memory has there been such mass destruction on this level. But there are no others at large capable of cultivating and sustaining the kind of surprise force that Brainiac unleashed on us. It will not happen again, not on our watch."

"Maybe this is not what you want to hear," Superman said, "but I have to tell you that the most difficult part of this invasion has yet to come." He paused, and then beat on. "It wasn't the loss of our homes and of our family, it will be dealing with their absence. The empty chairs at the table, an empty half of the bed, a pair of small shoes never worn. I have an identity beyond this cape, and I have lost what I love too. Behind me are a selection of heroes that fought for us and lost their lives, but they were not the only ones. There are thousands of heroes we have lost, each of them as… as special as the next. Repairing a broken family is not like fixing your house, fixing our damaged and dirty costumes. It's something that requires love and compassion, and for you to look for what you have left, and find strength in that. Thank you."

Applause broke out, not so much from the press, but from the hundreds of civilians behind them, people that had come from all over the city, all over the country, some from different parts of the world. The man of tomorrow listened carefully, but he was dismayed by what he heard.

"Fuckin' alien, Brainiac would never have invaded if it weren't for him being here –"

" – the entire thing is his fault, and we have to _clap _for him?"

" – send _him _back to Krypton, make him lose everything he has, damn alien."

He was stunned into silence for a moment, so much so that Green Lantern offered him a sideways glance and, when he didn't reply, moved up and spoke into the microphone. His deep voice boomed over the Open Court of Justice. "We will now take questions."

The applause quickly died down and the press raised their hands. Superman pointed into the crowd and let them interpret who he spoke at. It was a woman who addressed the heroes.

"Hello. A question for Batman – do you feel that the events in Gotham City involving Joker and Sinestro are somehow linked to Brainiac's invasion?"

That seemed to give Batman pause for a moment; Superman stepped back and let the dark knight address the microphone. He rarely did public appearances at all – so the press always jumped at the chance to address him.

"No," he said, and fell back into the line.

There was some muttering and laughter from the crowd. _He's so dour. _

Hands up again.

"Has Black Canary's family been informed of her death? Do they know the circumstances?"

Flash, a more endearing face to the press, answered the question. In Superman's mind, he was answering on behalf of Oliver. _I wonder if he's watching. If you are, I hope you know we're all thinking of you, Ollie. _

"Yes, Black Canary's family know what's up with the situation, but we'd prefer not to talk about it." He looked into the camera. "Our thoughts are with her family."

Superman selected Jack Ryder this time, able to discern his small face in the crowd. Jack Ryder's small face was visible in the crowd. A long time ago, Jack had been bonded to an entity known as the Creeper, but their essences had been torn apart. _I wonder how much he remembers of that time. He discovered Batman's identity. _Surely if he remembered, however, that would be newsworthy. Superman hoped that day would not be near in coming.

"Statements haven't been made on the status of Green Arrow and Zatanna. Where are they?"

"Zatanna sustained major injuries in the battle of Atlantis. She was tortured by the sorceress Circe, who died during the battle, and she is still undergoing treatment. It's thought she'll make a full recovery, but for now, we'll let her rest before we ask she don her hat again. Green Arrow too was injured in the battle, though not as badly as Zatanna. He requested himself to not be here. Next."

"Superman! Can you comment on the rumour that Wonder Woman murdered Circe during the battle, and that she's not present because she is currently on the run from the sorceress' domain of Tartarus?"

Superman thought, _Every piece of that is correct. _

Superman thought, _Diana is being hunted by another world and left to keep Earth safe._

Superman said nothing, and Batman cut in, lying: "Circe died as a result of a clash between Diana and Raven as they were trying to save the life of Zatanna. If Circe had not died in the conflict, many other heroes would have."

"Are you saying someone chose who died in the fight?"

Batman groaned. "No, I'm saying that –"

A high scream, like the cry of a pained Valkyrie, shattered the noise and people shouted in fear. Everyone looked up and saw a smouldering wreckage of a great aircraft falling, burning up as it entered and tumbled into Earth's atmosphere. For a moment, Superman thought it was the transport that had brought them here, but it wasn't. It was –

" – Watchtower?" Flash said.

All their heads were looking up into the air at Watchtower, which was crumbling and burning, huge and immense. It had exploded in space and now it was falling out of orbit, down to them…

_Cyborg._

But there was no time to think of why this had happened, who was injured. There was only time to get it far away from Earth. Martian Manhunter and the man of steel took to the sky.

_This fight is done, but this war is not. Something is coming for us,_ he thought as he flew with Manhunter.

_Something dark. Something I'm not sure we can beat. _


	25. Epilogue

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** And here we are, the final chapter of _Justice League Divided. _It's been a long and gusty ride, but I've enjoyed every moment of it. Enjoy this chapter, there's something _interesting developments. _Trust me - it isn't here for filler! Thanks for all the reviews and favourites. The sequel will start posting in, I think, a week or so. Soon I'll be posting a new story for _The Last of Us, _titled _The Hunters of Pittsburgh. _I'm looking forward to that too! Enjoy the chapter. Don't forget to leave reviews and let me know what you think!

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**EPILOGUE**

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She was very aware that men liked the sway of her curves when she walked, the click of her heels. They watched; she let them. It couldn't hurt her, after all. But when she needed something with no questions asked, all she had to do was walk. As long as they were watching. _Shame it doesn't work with all men_, she thought.

The sound of her footsteps echoed around the opening floor. In the distance there was gentle music playing at the bar; a taxi slammed closed outside and a bellboy rushed to help with someone's luggage. She had no luggage herself, only a handbag wound twice tightly around her shoulder. It didn't hurt to be cautious.

"Ah, Miss Glade, it's wonderful to see you again." The man at the reception desk smiled big and warm at her arrival. "I wondered where you had gone."

"I missed you every step of the way," she said, low enough to make him draw nearer to her. He smiled, like a schoolboy with a crush. _Pig_, she thought, but there was no need to burn bridges by calling him out as one. All people could one day be valuable. The man she loved had taught her that.

"Will you be needing a new key to your room?"

"No, I still have the other. What kind of klutz do you take me for?" She laughed.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't hold you to the standards of every other resident in the hotel."

"Tell me," she said, "have there been any new high profile guests since I left?"

"Why miss, you only left a few hours ago." His thick grey eyebrows disappeared into his hair. He had a lot of hair. Stephanie wondered if it was a wig. "There have been none. Is there someone you're looking for in particular?"

"No, George. Thank you for your help." She reached out with her hand and brushed his upper arm, and then she left. Walking, walking, walking. In the mirroring doors of the elevator ahead of her she could _see _him watching her, leering. The bored old man seemed one step away from drooling.

The elevator chimed softly when she pressed the button and waited. The clock hand moved from seven, to six, five, four, three, two… They parted and she entered. _42_, she pressed, and the doors slid shut quietly and began to move.

There were many things on her mind that day. She wondered if he would be in a pleasant mood. _If he isn't, I don't know what will put him in one. _That day had been a great advancement for their cause. Soon would begin the next phase and, though he hadn't involved her in _all _of her plans, she would certainly share in his glory. He'd told her so himself. He'd be so _kind _to her. She wet his lips with her tongue at the thought. Oh, how it _excited _her!

Oh how _he _excited her. Most things excited her. But seeing it burn in the sky, that beacon of oppression. The home of the Justice League had fallen, their base, their "Watchtower". They wouldn't visit it again. _He _had brought it down. He had organised the full thing. He had all sorts of people under his control. _People, and the god. Circe_, she remembered. Stephanie had hated her when they met; the way that he gave her attention, the way he smiled at her.

"It means nothing, my dear," he'd reassured her afterwards. "You know that you are the only true one for me." He ran his fingers through her hair. "But it's important that she give us what we need. She'll try to use us as we do with her. We tell people what they want to hear and they fall for it." And then he smiled his marvellous smile.

_We tell people what they want to hear and then they fall for it_, she remembered. She'd based her life on that. Her relationships with people were just connections for his ends. Stephanie wanted to become a tool for him, a device for him to use as he needed her. And now he relied on her. He _needed _her. She knew there was always the possibility that he would one day fall out of love with her, but she'd be ready for that. As much as she loved him, if she had to run then she could do so. She could run just as well as she could walk.

The elevator stopped when it reached the forty-second floor, but the doors did not part. She placed her finger on the button again and held it there until she felt the static shock. It hummed a little as it scanned her fingerprint. As the elevator announced her name, the doors slid apart.

She walked into a brightly lit reception area. At the desk there was another woman; she had the dark brown hair Stephanie herself had, but her skin was dark where her own was fair. She was hovering above her seat when the doors slid open, head inclined slightly forward. One hand rested on the barrier blocking her desk from sight, but the other hovered below. _She's holding a gun. _

If she weren't holding a gun, Stephanie would have reported her. It was protocol. I could have been killed, my hand removed. The woman wasn't completely useless. Still, at first chance Stephanie would stab her in the back and have her removed. Competition was to be discouraged, and this bitch probably had the same notions as Stephanie herself did. _But she doesn't have him in her pocket. _

There was a clang in the corner of the room and Stephanie glanced around; there were men fitting new grates onto the walls.

"More security," the woman behind the desk said, groaning a little. "What's best for the boss, I guess."

"Yes," Stephanie said, watching them. She turned back to the woman. "How is he?" Stephanie hadn't seen him today, or the day before. But today was different. Today was a triumph.

"I've only spoken to him once. He seems fine. Wants you to go in and see him. He's assembling the rest of the staff up here in ten minutes." Stephanie tried not to grin at that; but he wanted her alone. He always wanted her alone. Maybe today would be the day he finally kissed her.

"What for?"

"I dunno, a briefing on something. We'll find out soon."

There weren't many of them. Six, including the two currently in the room. The workers with the grate looked like outsiders to Stephanie; she hadn't seen them before. But she trusted them wholly if he did.

"I'll go in right now."

"Take this, will you? He asked you bring it in." Not looking at her, the woman reached for something and lifted it out, handing it to her. The bottle was made of thick glass; inside was liquid, red liquid. _Wine. Time to celebrate, is it? _

Further down the corridor was the door that led into his room. Stephanie Glade looked at her reflection before she entered. She ran her hands along her skirt, smoothing it out, and pushed her breasts up to make them more prominent. After a moment of deliberation she undid the top button of her white blouse. Her hair was already done to perfection, and even the blustery weather outside on the streets of Metropolis could not affect it. With a deep breath, she pushed open the doors and in she walked.

The room was dark, very dark. That was common. She could make out his outline from the glow of the computer screens he sat in front of. So many of them. One was a feed from the news, discussing the fall of Watchtower and the few hundred people that had been injured when it fell. There were others that were simply live feeds from around the world. She knew the grubbiness of Gotham City and the glow of Star City at first sight, but there some she did not recognise; a city made of green light that looked as if it were a science fiction film. A castle that was made of crystals and ice.

"It's nice to see you again, Stephanie."

Even in the dark, if he were looking, he would have seen her blush. "And you, Mr Luthor. How have you been?"

The click of her heels was dampened in this small room; it did not have the echo that the reception area commanded or the outside entailed, only the immediate and harsh click of her heels and then no further resonance. That disappointed her; the walking was her control.

"Well," he said. The glow from the screens made his head seem all the more round. She came to his side, still holding the wine. "It's a pity there were so many innocent lives lost when we destroyed their base."

"Yes, pity," she murmured. _I always feel so small around him. _

"You brought the wine?"

"Yes, sir."

"Excellent." He took it from her. His green eyes seemed to glow in the dark; the outline of his strong jaw and mouth visible to her. She wanted to look at him more but his eyes, so intense, made her turn away.

_Be strong and impress him. _"When will you go public with your survival, Mr Luthor?"

"Oh, not too long now, I think. We just have to wait a while longer. There's a real resentment for the League fostering in the world now, Stephanie. They _blame _them for Brainiac's arrival. Who am I to say they are wrong? Brainiac attacked using his rabid dog, and maybe he wouldn't have if the "heroes" were not here."

She nodded. He was right, of course. He was always right. "Won't the world be angry that you pretended to be dead?"

"No," he said, pouring a glass of wine. He had another bottle at his own side, though the liquid was brown. _Bourbon, neat_. Stephanie didn't like the stuff; it stung her throat, so he'd arranged for her own. "I feared for my life. It's understandable. Brainiac would have come for me. He was angry with me, for not giving him what he wanted so badly. He grew angry and attacked me – who knew it would rage on into the streets of Metropolis? Who knew his hand would be forced there, and his invasion launched? Nobody knew."

"You must have. You sent a clone."

He laughed. "Aliens are a scourge, but they're rarely stupid. It'd have hunted me down. Pull up a seat. I'll propose a toast."

Her eyes darted around the room quickly as she nodded and she scrambled for a chair, and then pulled it over to him. She kept a slight distance, as if she was afraid of offending him by going too close. In a way, sometimes she felt as though she had no right to be this near to him. _Lex Luthor, saviour of mankind, true man of steel…_

He held out the glass filled with wine, just the right amount. "How long until the Justice League are over?"

"Oh, the end has already begun for the Justice League. It began when they were divided, ripped apart… I had the Joker stumble across the technology to cause strife with fear gas; I had the news of this gas reach Sinestro… All done whilst I was dead. There's more to come. United they are strong, but divided they will fall. And then, one by one, they'll die."

Her face lit up in a grin. "Who's first?"

Lex raised his glass in toast. "That would be telling."

She smiled and together they drank. He kept drinking, downing his whole glass, and she did too. She wasn't aware of it, but she watched him to see when he stopped so she could stop at the same time. "That was good," he said when they'd finished and sat their glasses back on his desk.

The footage of Superman's press conference was on three different screens at once. Both sets of eyes lingered on it for a few moments. She had been there in the crowd, listening.

"Every word out of his mouth is poison," she spat.

He nodded, and there was a pause, and then – he laughed.

There was a banging on the door but Lex did not turn. His eyes moved from one screen to the other. Stephanie's throat felt tight. _What's going on out there? _

"Mr Luthor…?"

The banging continued. Voices were rising and falling, high screams for aid on the other side… Lex made a questioning noise.

"They're banging – what is that? Is it for your meeting?"

"More likely it's the neurotoxin seeping from the walls. I'm surprised they're still moving."

Stephanie herself couldn't move; she was rooted to her chair in fear. She tried to open her mouth to speak and found that her tongue was thick and sore, and all the feeling in her mouth had disappeared. _And my arms, my legs… what's happening, dear god help me._

His green eyes found her own blue. "It seems you're not moving. Good. I don't like a mess."

She wanted to scream but, slowly, her throat was sealing itself up, blocked. She couldn't feel what with. Mucous forced its way out of her mouth and she began to choke and the agony took her. _I'm dying. I'm dying. HELP ME YOU SON OF A BITCH!_

"Phlegm? How unattractive." His chair span back to the computer monitors. "Phase two is only just beginning, Miss Glade. It's a pity you won't be here for the fireworks. The destruction of Watchtower was my opening gambit – and they can't even say it was me!"

The words he spoke were muffled to her now, her brain was shutting down slowly and her lungs were screaming for air.

"I mean to save the world from these aliens, these so-called heroes. The people of Earth will chant my name. _Lu-thor, Lu-thor, Lu-thor. _Perhaps they'll make me president." He was giddy. "This will be a challenge, no doubt, but I'm ready for it. They won't be ready for me."

She made out the sound of a real laugh, something never before had she heard from him. Her eyes began to go dark, patches of light disappearing. He waved as her sight disappeared completely. "Maybe I owe you a quick explanation: during the press conference, a reporter questioned the link between Joker's little rampage and Sinestro's appearance. I can't be having that; it's too close. The reporter was taken care of, naturally, and now I have to plug up all the possible leaks. You understand, of course, that it's a business decision. Nothing personal. You simply know too much."

The last sounds that Stephanie Glade ever heard were the footsteps of Lex Luthor moving off, into the shadow.


End file.
